'I still don't understand—why you thought it would be a protection to carry——'
'A man's fear of ridicule will restrain him when nothing else will. If one of them is publicly whipped, and by a woman, it isn't likely to be forgotten. Even the fear of it—protects us from some things. After an experience some of the women had, the moment our committee decided on another demonstration, little Mary O'Brian went out, without consulting anybody, and bought me the whip. "If you will go," she said, "you shan't go unarmed. If we have that sort of cur to deal with, the only thing is to carry a dog-whip."'
Miss Claxton clenched her hands in their grey cotton gloves. There was silence in the room for several seconds.
'What we do in asking questions publicly—it's only what men do constantly. The greatest statesman in the land stops to answer a man, even if he's a fool naturally, or half drunk. They treat those interrupters with respect, they answer their questions civilly. They are men. They have votes. But women: "Where's the chucker out?"'
'Are you never afraid that all you're going through may be in vain?'
'No. We are quite certain to succeed. We have found the right way at last.'
'You mean what are called your tactics?'
'I mean the spirit of the women. I mean: not to mind the price. When you've got people to feel like that, success is sure.'
'But it comes very hard on those few who pay with the person, as the French say, pay with prison—and with——'
'Prison isn't the worst!'