“May I sit beside you?” “It’s a very difficult one,” said her aunt. She was still more stirred by the idea of the equal citizenship of men and women, by the realization that a big and growing organization of women were giving form and a generalized expression to just that personal pride, that aspiration for personal freedom and respect which had brought her to London; but when she heard Miss Miniver discoursing on the next step in the suffrage campaign, or read of women badgering Cabinet Ministers, padlocked to railings, or getting up in a public meeting to pipe out a demand for votes and be carried out kicking and screaming, her soul revolted. Anna thrust hers into her pocket unopened, and for the first time left the house without a smile upon her face. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. I’ve just seen him. Sit down, I command you.
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