Part 39 (1/2)

'I still don't understand--why you thought it would be a protection to carry----'

'A man's fear of ridicule will restrain him when nothing else will. If one of them is publicly whipped, _and by a woman_, it isn't likely to be forgotten. Even the fear of it--protects us from some things. After an experience some of the women had, the moment our committee decided on another demonstration, little Mary O'Brian went out, without consulting anybody, and bought me the whip. ”If you will go,” she said, ”you shan't go unarmed. If we have that sort of cur to deal with, the only thing is to carry a dog-whip.”'

Miss Claxton clenched her hands in their grey cotton gloves. There was silence in the room for several seconds.

'What we do in asking questions publicly--it's only what men do constantly. The greatest statesman in the land stops to answer a man, even if he's a fool naturally, or half drunk. They treat those interrupters with respect, they answer their questions civilly. They are men. They have votes. But women: ”Where's the chucker out?”'

'Are you never afraid that all you're going through may be in vain?'

'No. We are quite certain to succeed. We have found the right way at last.'

'You mean what are called your tactics?'

'I mean the spirit of the women. I mean: not to mind the price. When you've got people to feel like that, success is sure.'

'But it comes very hard on those few who pay with the person, as the French say, pay with prison--and with----'

'Prison isn't the worst!'

A kind of shyness came over the woman on the sofa; she dropped her eyes from the other's face.

'Of course,' the ex-prisoner went on, 'if more women did a little it wouldn't be necessary for the few to do so much.'

'I suppose you are in need of funds to carry on the propaganda.'

'Money isn't what is most needed. One of our workers--a little mill girl--came up from the country with only two pounds in her pocket to rouse London. And she did it!' her comrade exulted. 'But there's a cla.s.s we don't reach. If only'--she hesitated and glanced reflectively at the woman before her.

'Yes?' Miss Levering's eye flew to the cheque-book.

'If only we could get women of influence to understand what's at stake,'

said Miss Claxton, a little wistfully.

'They don't?'

'Oh, some. A few. As much as can be expected.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Well, the upper-cla.s.s women, I don't say all' (she spoke as one exercising an extreme moderation); 'but many of them are such s.e.xless creatures.'

Miss Levering opened wide eyes--a glint of something like amazed laughter crossed her face, as she repeated--

'_They_ are s.e.xless, you think?'

'We find them so,' said the other, firmly.

'Why'--Miss Levering smiled outright--'that's what they say of you.'

'Well, it's nonsense, like the rest of what they say.'