Gently she withdrew
herself from her lover's embrace.
"And when the painter is a woman, should the only subject for her
brush be the physical beauty of man?" she asked.
Varillo gave an airy gesture of remonstrance.
"Carissima mia! You shock me! How can you suggest such a thing! The
two sexes differ in tastes and aspirations as absolutely as in form.
Man is an unfettered creature,--he must have his liberty, even if it
reaches license; woman is his dependent. That is Nature's law. Man
is the conqueror--woman is his conquest! We cannot alter these
things. That is one reason for the prejudice existing against
woman's work--if it excels that of man, we consider it a kind of
morbid growth--an unnatural protuberance on the face of the
universe. In fact, it is a wrong balance of the intellectual forces,
which in their action, should always remain on the side of man."
"But if man abuses his power, may it not be taken from him
altogether?" suggested Angela tranquilly, "If man, knowing that a
life of self-indulgence destroys his intellectual capacity, still
persists in that career, and woman, studying patiently to perfect
herself, refuses to follow his example of vice, may it not happen
that the intellectual forces may range themselves on the side of
right rather than wrong, and invest woman with a certain supremacy
in the end? It is a problem worth thinking of!"
Varillo looked sharply at her.
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