Mrs. F. I don't waste any sympathy on them. I'm thinking of the penalty all women have to pay because a handful of hysterical——
Jean. Still I think I'm sorry for them. It must be dreadful to find you've done such a lot of harm to the thing you care most about in the world.
Miss L. Do you picture the Suffragettes sitting in sackcloth?
Mrs. F. Well, they can't help realising now what they've done.
Miss L. (quietly). Isn't it just possible they realise they've waked up interest in the Woman Question so that it's advertised in every paper and discussed in every house from Land's End to John o'Groats? Don't you think they know there's been more said and written about it in these ten days since the scene, than in the ten years before it?
Mrs. F. You aren't saying you think it was a good way to get what they wanted?
Miss L. (shrugs). I'm only pointing out that it seems not such a bad way to get it known they do want something—and (smiling) "want it bad."
Jean (getting up). Didn't Mr. Greatorex say women had been politely petitioning Parliament for forty years?
Miss L. And men have only laughed.