[She both knew and didn't know that Robert would so thoroughly go for the throat - the words are like a sharp punch to the gut. He stands and watches as "Rosalind" speaks, fists clenched at his sides...and when the speech is done, he stomps forward, heels clicking against the floor. There's a barely-concealed tremble in his voice.]

Rosalind, you shouldn't speak about yourself that way.

After all, I have my own share of embarrassments. Your mother might not have believed in you, but at least someone believed enough in you to fund your research despite your sex. No one believed in my work enough to fund me - I had to build my machine bit by bit, sad and all alone.

Alone because all the women I could actually interact with were either vapid, shallow women strictly interested in my looks, or conniving little harlots sniffing around who turned tail the moment they realized that I didn't have any money.

All that beside, you are not the only one who is sterile. I could never have a child, either. I could never start a family of my own.