One day they were at tea in the laboratory and a discussion sprang up about the question of women’s suffrage. Here, put it on your finger. A man is so apt to—to take women a little too lightly. She was quite oblivious to the sensation she had created. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. She told us that it was a disguise. If they become bad it is through inclination, not necessity. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. Jonathan had not deceived him. Such was the hubbub and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not hear its plunge into the flood. txt or 15614-8.
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