"See those jams of women in white, Zoe, waiting to form into line!"
"I'd love to march!"
"Why?"
"Oh, I don't know, there—there's something sort of onward about it."
"Exactly! Onward! Forward! March!"
With a precocity that never ceased to amuse and delight Lilly, Zoe, while only half understanding the content of an occasion, could somehow imbibe its essence. She leaned now over the rail of the omnibus, the cross-town streets, as they jogged past, already colloid masses of women waiting to fall into line.
"Isn't it queer, Lilly, that after all these centuries and centuries women are just beginning to—what did that woman on the program call it down at Cooper Union hall the other night—function in the government? Why has it taken them so long to ask for their half in the say-so of things?"
"Any great movement, Zoe, must have very slow beginnings. Think for what ages man lived without Christianity!"
"Yes; but look how long it has been here."
"Reckoning in geology, Zoe, and compared with the age of mountains and oceans, two thousand years isn't long."