MISS NORAH’S SOLILOQUY
I do not know that I was wholly proud of myself as I went up to my room—not even so proud as I had led those dear creatures in the drawing-room to suppose. I imagine I must really be an odd kind of creature, because I am not at all sure that it is not vulgar to make man, either in a general or particular sense, the entire end and object of their existence, as so many women—who think themselves very far from vulgar—do. To be perfectly frank, I have no opinion whatever of man. Perhaps that is because he has none of me. Up to the present, he emphatically does not seem to have. But that only places me in the position of the onlooker who sees most of the game. I have seen some games, I give you my word for it. And I have come to the conclusion that man is useful, in his
