The Night-Cellar XVIII. She vanished from the laboratory for a week, a week of oddly interesting days. So she married him. Bête, she told herself fiercely. Of his own certain knowledge he could tell them that. “Go on!” “You know—in Paris they coupled my name with some one’s—an Englishman’s. 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. " Further remonstrance, however, was cut short by the sudden entrance of Mrs. I’ve tried to use my authority.
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