All women are born with the power to put a man into such a position that he must either contradict himself, hold his tongue, or fly into a senseless rage.

They do this so easily, that even after the experience of a life-time we never suspect the trap until they pull the string and we are caught.

Then, if we contradict ourselves, woman utters an inhuman cry of triumph and jeers at our unstable purpose; if we lose our tempers instead, she bursts into tears and calls us brutes; and finally, if we say nothing, she declares, with a show of reason, that we have nothing to say.
[Illustration: "HE FLUSHED AGAIN, VERY ANGRY THIS TIME, AND HE MOVED AWAY TO LEAVE HER, WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD."] Marcello lost his temper.
"You are quite right," he said angrily.

"You are not worth caring for.
You are a mere child, and you are a miserable little flirt already, and you will be a detestable woman when you grow up! You will lead men on, and play with them, and then laugh at them.

But you shall not laugh at me again.