Lady John (coming forward). You think they were just putting off the issue till it was too late?
Miss L. (in a detached tone). I wasn't there, but I haven't heard anybody deny that the women waited till ten minutes to eleven. Then they discovered the policeman who'd been sent up at the psychological moment to the back of the gallery. Then, I'm told, when the women saw they were betrayed once more, they utilised the few minutes left, to impress on the country at large the fact of their demands—did it in the only way left them.
(Sits leaning forward reflectively smiling, chin in hand.)
It does rather look to the outsider as if the well-behaved women had worked for forty years and made less impression on the world then those fiery young women made in five minutes.
Mrs. F. Oh, come, be fair!
Miss L. Well, you must admit that, next day, every newspaper reader in Europe and America knew there were women in England in such dead earnest about the Suffrage that the men had stopped laughing at last, and turned them out of the House. Men even advertised how little they appreciated the fun by sending the women to gaol in pretty sober earnest. And all the world was talking about it.
(Mrs. Heriot lays down the "Church Times" and joins the others.)
Lady John. I have noticed, whenever the men aren't there, the women sit and discuss that scene.
Jean (cheerfully). I shan't have to wait till the men are gone. (Leans over Lady John's shoulder and says half aside) He's in sympathy.
Lady John. How do you know?