At the tragic note in her voice, humor softened his features and his

firm, sensual lips quirked in a derisive smile. "Poor little Catherine,"

he said dryly, reaching out and brushing his knuckles against her

cheek. "What a miserable lot you women have. From the day you're

born, anything you want is yours for the asking, and so you have

nothing to work for—and even if you did, you'd never be permitted to

work for it. We don't allow you to study and you're forbidden sports,

so you cannot exercise your mind or your body. You don't even have

honor to cling to, for although a man's honor is his for as long as he

wishes, yours is between your legs, and you lose it to the first man

who has you. How unjust life is to you!" he finished. "No wonder

you're all so bored, amoral, and frivolous."