'So we've done all our laughing in our sleeves. Yes—and some years our sleeves had to be made—like balloons!' She pulled out the loose alpaca of her own while the workmen chuckled with appreciation.

'I bet on Ernestine any'ow', said a young man, with an air of admitting himself a bold original fellow.

'Well, open laughter is less dangerous laughter. It's even a guide; it helps us to find out things some of us wouldn't know otherwise. Lots of women used to be taken in by that talk about feminine influence and about men's immense respect for them! But any number of women have come to see that underneath that old mask of chivalry was a broad grin.—We are reminded of that every time the House of Commons talks about us.' She flung it at the three supercilious strangers. 'The dullest gentleman there can raise a laugh if he speaks of the "fair sex." Such jokes!—even when they are clean such poor little feeble efforts that even a member of Parliament couldn't laugh at them unless he had grown up with the idea that woman was somehow essentially funny—and that he, oh, no! there was nothing whatever to laugh at in man. Those members of Parliament don't have the enlightenment that you men have—of hearing what women really think when we hear men laugh as you did just now about our going to prison. They don't know that we find it just a little strange'—she bent over the scattering rabble and gathered it into a sudden fellowship—'doesn't it strike you, too, as strange that when a strong man goes to prison for his convictions it is thought to be something rather fine (I don't say it is myself—though it's the general impression). But when a weak woman goes for her convictions, men find it very humorous indeed. Our prisoners have to bear not only the hardships of Holloway Gaol, but they have to bear the worse pains and penalties inflicted by the general public. You, too, you laugh! and yet I say'—she lifted her arms and spread them out above the people—'I say it was not until women were found ready to go to prison—not till then was the success of the cause assured.' Her bright eyes were shining brighter still with tears.

'If prison's so good fur the cause, why didn't you go?'

'Here's a gentleman who asks why I didn't go to prison. The answer to that is, I did go.'

She tossed the information down among the cheers and groans as lightly as though it had no more personal significance for her than a dropped leaflet setting forth some minor fact.

'That delicate little girl!' breathed Vida.

'You never told me that item in her history,' said Borrodaile.

'She never told me—never once spoke of it! They put her in prison!' It was as if she couldn't grasp it.

'Of course one person's going isn't of much consequence,' Ernestine was winding up with equal spirit and sang-froid. 'But the fact that dozens and scores—all sorts and conditions—are ready to go—that matters! And that's the place our reprehensible tactics have brought the movement to. The meeting is closed.'