She said:
"Oh, you'll help?"
He answered:
"Of course, your mother can't be incommoded. She's written the only novel that's been fit to read since the eighteenth century."
She stopped and said earnestly:
"Look here. Don't be one of those ignoble triflers who say the vote won't do women any good. Women have a rotten time. They do, really. If you'd seen what I've seen, I'm not talking through my hat." Her voice became quite deep: she had tears in her eyes: "Poor women do!" she said, "little insignificant creatures. We've got to change the divorce laws. We've got to get better conditions. You couldn't stand it if you knew what I know."
Her emotion vexed him, for it seemed to establish a sort of fraternal intimacy that he didn't at the moment want. Women do not show emotion except before their familiars.
He said drily:
"I daresay I shouldn't. But I don't know, so I can!"
She said with deep disappointment: