LILY. In the summer they do.
MAGGIE. [impressively.] I don’t care what you say, or what anybody says, it’s not right. And if the men have got used to it, it’s all the worse. They want stirring up—and it’s the women who’ve got to do the stirring.
LILY. Whatever can they do?
MAGGIE. Lots. It’s the women who make the men afraid. In the old days the women used to help the men on with their armour and give them favours to wear, and send them forth to fight. That’s the spirit we want now. Instead of that we say to the men:—“I shouldn’t trouble, my dear, if I were you. You’re safe here. Do be careful.”
LILY. You’re very unjust. Look at the Boer War, and how brave the women were then.
MAGGIE. That isn’t the only kind of war. Is a soldier to be the only kind of man, that a woman’s going to encourage? Can’t she help the man who wants to make a better thing of life? Oh, what a lovely chance you had and didn’t take it, Lil!
LILY. How can you talk like that! What a fuss you’re making over a little thing.
MAGGIE. It wasn’t a little thing. Here is Charley, with all sorts of “go” in him and fire and energy. Why couldn’t you go to him and say, “I’m proud of you. Throw up the horrid business and go and seek your fortune.” It was all he wanted, I do believe. Instead of which, he’s got every blessed person against him—wife, mother-in-law, father-in-law, and all his friends and relations, and everything he can have. Everybody thinks him mad.
LILY. You ought to have married him, I should think!
MAGGIE. Don’t get spiteful, Lil!