Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. Miss Garvice assumed a quality of neutrality, professed herself almost won over by Ann Veronica’s example, and the Scotchman decided that if women had a distinctive sphere it was, at any rate, an enlarging sphere, and no one who believed in the doctrine of evolution could logically deny the vote to women “ultimately,” however much they might be disposed to doubt the advisability of its immediate concession. He was vaguely uneasy; he knew not what about. Then he could hear Hilary breathing beside him, and from outside the muted twittering of birds. "Who've you got with you?" demanded the Amazon, boldly. When she arrived at the Palazzo, not a single sentry was aware of her presence.
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