“Instead of talking rot about woman’s suffrage,” said Titherington savagely, “and ragging Vittie, which is what we brought her here for, she’s going round calling everybody a liar. And it won’t do. I tell you it won’t do at all.”
“You said it was a good speech,” I reminded him.
“I shouldn’t have minded that speech. It’s what she’s been at since then. She spent all day yesterday and the whole of this morning going round from house to house gassing about the way nobody in political life ever speaks the truth. She has a lot of young fools worked up to such a state that I can scarcely show my face in the streets, and I hear that they mobbed a man up at the railway station who came down to support O’Donoghue. He deserved it, of course, but it’s impossible to say who they’ll attack next. Half the town is going about with yards of white ribbon pinned on to them.”
“What on earth for?”
“Some foolery. It’s the badge of some blasted society she’s started. There’s A.S.P.L. on the ribbons.”
“I told you at the start,” I said, “that the letters A.S.P.L. couldn’t stand for votes for women, but you would have it that they did.”
“She has the whole town placarded with notices of a meeting she’s going to hold to-morrow night. We can’t possibly have that, you know.”
“Well, why don’t you stop her?”
“Stop her! I’ve done every damned thing I could to stop her. I went round to her this morning and told her you’d sign any pledge she liked about woman’s suffrage if she’d only clear out of this and go to Belfast. She as good as told me to my face that she wouldn’t give a tinker’s curse for any pledge I had a hand in giving. My own impression is that she doesn’t care if she never got a vote, or any other woman either. All she wants is to turn the place into a bear garden and spoil the whole election. I’ve come here to tell you plain that if you don’t interfere I’ll wash my hands of the whole affair.”
“Don’t do that,” I said. “Think of the position I’d be in if you deserted me.”