’ Gerald stood back, and watched her cross the room to the closed French doors. Stanley, consenting with dignity. ‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. Manning, all this sort of thing is very well as sentiment, but does it correspond with the realities? Are women truly such angelic things and men so chivalrous? You men have, I know, meant to make us Queens and Goddesses, but in practice—well, look, for example, at the stream of girls one meets going to work of a morning, round-shouldered, cheap, and underfed! They aren’t queens, and no one is treating them as queens. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. "A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Shotbolt. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. Some day, when the rewards of literature permit the arduous research required, the Campaign of the Women will find its Carlyle, and the particulars of that marvellous series of exploits by which Miss Brett and her colleagues nagged the whole Western world into the discussion of women’s position become the material for the most delightful and amazing descriptions. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. "Clean and spotless, but beginning to show the wear and tear of constant use.
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