"I don't know. Lady things. Take the long view. We've got a whole life to plan together. Go vote at the polls like an honest citizen and let it go at that. You and I are more important than—"
"Have you any idea how offensive you're being?" Gabby interrupted.
"Offensive?"
"I suppose you want me to quit working too, don't you?"
"You won't have to work."
"I see. You've got it all planned, haven't you? Doesn't it occur to you that I like my work? Doesn't it occur to you that I've got political beliefs? There must be other things for me to do. Lady things. Men and women think differently. You male chauvinist!"
"Listen. I want my wife home with me because writing's the loneliest work in the world. What the hell's chauvinistic about that?"
"You not only look Edwardian, you think it. A woman's place is in the home. Cross-stitched on a sampler by loving hands at home."
"All right, Susan B. Anthony, where else is it?"
"Where she wants it to be, not where it's convenient for you!" An angry outburst trembled on Gabby's lips. She controlled herself. "We're fighting again. I don't know what it is you do to me, but we're always tearing at each other."