Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes. Reconnoitring them through a small grated loophole, he refused to open the door till they had explained their business. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. The youth with the hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and against the women’s vote. “You see,” she said, very gently, “I AM going. The vote is only the beginning, the necessary beginning. ” He said, his voice tinged with worry. I am no use for a clerk, because I do not understand shorthand. We have that gift.
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