"'As a dancer,' said she, 'I have never been accustomed to use my
feet except on the boards. If you have any spirit, you will turn out
four more plays or so in a year; you will make up your mind that
succeed they must, when you think of the end in view, and that your
wife will not walk in the mud. It is a shame that I should have to ask
for it. You ought to have guessed my continual discomfort during the
five years since I married you.'

"'I am quite willing,' returned du Bruel. 'But we shall ruin
ourselves.'

"'If you run into debt,' she said, 'my uncle's money will clear it
off some day.'

"'You are quite capable of leaving me the debts and taking the
property.'

"'Oh! is that the way you take it?' retorted she. 'I have nothing
more to say to you; such a speech stops my mouth.'

"Whereupon du Bruel poured out his soul in excuses and protestations
of love. Not a word did she say. He took her hands, she allowed him to
take them; they were like ice, like a dead woman's hands. Tullia, you
can understand, was playing to admiration the part of corpse that
women can play to show you that they refuse their consent to anything
and everything; that for you they are suppressing soul, spirit, and
life, and regard themselves as beasts of burden. Nothing so provokes a
man with a heart as this strategy. Women can only use it with those
who worship them.