And Anita—
“So she was. I’m telling you. It’s the wrongs, not of one woman, but of all women, of all ages of women, that burn behind it.”
“Votes for Women!” It was Mr. Flood’s voice.
There was a laugh and I lost an answer. I caught only a vehement blur of words, because Great-aunt had me by the wrist.
“Chatter, chatter! I can’t hear ’em. What’s my daughter talking about?”
I hesitated.
“About books, Auntie.”
“Whose books?” she pounced.
“Some writer, Auntie.”
“What’s she saying about her, eh?” She held me bent down to her. I glanced at Kent Rehan. He was listening to us. I felt harried.