You must talk to me,--you who know so much, who have learned all things and forgotten nothing; you who have passed through every social test.

Talk to me, amuse me, I am listening." "What can I tell you that you do not know?
Besides, the request is ironical.

You allow yourself no intercourse with social life; you trample on its conventions, its laws, its customs, sentiments, and sciences; you reduce them all to the proportions such things take when viewed by you beyond this universe." "Therefore you see, my friend, that I am not a woman.

You do wrong to love me.

What! am I to leave the ethereal regions of my pretended strength, make myself humbly small, cringe like the hapless female of all species, that you may lift me up?
and then, when I, helpless and broken, ask you for help, when I need your arm, you will repulse me! No, we can never come to terms." "You are more maliciously unkind to-night than I have ever known you." "Unkind!" she said, with a look which seemed to blend all feelings into one celestial emotion, "no, I am ill, I suffer, that is all.