We can ruin them--and they bear their shame in silence.
We can laugh away their reputations over a game at billiards, and
they are too pure and proud to even attempt to defend themselves. We
can vilify whatever work they do, and they endure the slander,--we
can murder them--" he paused," Yes, we can murder them, and they
die, without so much as leaving a curse behind them! Extraordinary!-
-angelic--superb!--and a wise Fate has ordained that we men shall
never sacrifice ourselves for SUCH women, or go mad for the love of
them! We love the virago better than the saint; we are afraid of the
woman who nags at us and gives us trouble--who screams vengeance
upon us if we neglect her in a trifle--who clamours for our money,
and insists on our gifts--and who keeps our lives in a perpetual
fever of excitement and terror. But the innocent woman we hate--very
naturally! Her looks are a reproach to us, and we like to kill her
when we can--and we often succeed morally,--but THAT is not called
murder. The other way of killing is judged as a crime--and--then--
the punishment is death!"
As this word passed his lips in a whisper, he trembled violently.
Death! It had a chill sound--yet he had not thought so when he
associated it with Angela.
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