Mauney was somewhat put to it to gauge the strong individualistic note in Miss MacDowell, but was determined to try still harder.
“Do you believe in woman suffrage?” he ventured.
She shook her head.
“Surely,” he said, “you believe in women’s rights.”
“Certainly not,” replied Miss MacDowell, calmly. “We are the weaker sex. God made us weak on purpose.”
“Never!” argued Mauney, although he liked her attitude. “That’s an old bogy that got a fatal foothold in antediluvian days, and it’s taken about fifty centuries to get the idea even questioned. Ask any woman. She’ll tell you that the greatest movement of the twentieth century is the emancipation of women!”
“Tell me,” she said, pointedly, “from what do women seek to be emancipated?”
“Why! from an inferior rating. Woman’s intelligence and her equality demand a better label than man’s helpmeet.”
She cast a shrewd glance at Mauney, as if doubting his sincerity.
“Aren’t you a bit of a bluffer?” she asked. “Well, listen; you’re off the track. Woman’s inherent weakness is the very secret of her strength. Take any man, no matter how stubbornly masculine, and there’s a woman somewhere who can just simply make or mar him.”