“No; I am not clever enough for anything like that. I am profoundly ignorant about women's rights, and do not even know what I want, or ought to want.”
Roden, who had approached the table, laughed, and taking his tea, went and sat down near the fire. He, at all events, was tired and looked worn—as if his responsibilities were already beginning to weigh upon him. Cornish, too, had come forward, and, cup in hand, stood looking down at Miss Roden with a doubtful air.
“I always distrust women who say that,” he said. “One naturally suspects them of having got what they want by some underhand means—and of having abandoned the rest of their sex. This is an age of amalgamation; is not that so, Roden?”
He turned and sat down near to Dorothy. Roden thus appealed to, made some necessary remark, and then lapsed into a thoughtful silence. It seemed that Cornish was quite capable, however, of carrying on the conversation by himself.
“Do you know nothing about your wrongs, either?” he asked Dorothy.
“Nothing,” she replied. “I have not even the wit to know that I have any.”
“Good heavens!” he exclaimed. “No wonder Joan ceased writing to you. You are a most suspicious case, Miss Roden. Of course you have righted your wrongs—sub rosa—and leave other women to manage their own affairs. That is what is called a blackleg. You are untrue to the Union. In these days we all belong to some cause or another. We cannot help it, and recent legislation adds daily to the difficulty. We must either be rich or poor. At present the only way to live at peace with one's poorer neighbours is to submit to a certain amount of robbery. But some day the classes must combine to make a stand against the masses. The masses are already combined. We must either be a man or a woman. Some day the men must combine against the women, who are already united behind a vociferous vanguard. May I have some more tea?”
“I am afraid I have been left behind in the general advance,” said Miss Roden, taking his cup.
“I am afraid so. Of course I don't know where we are advancing to——” He paused and drank the tea slowly. “No one knows that,” he added.
“Probably to a point where we shall all suddenly begin fighting for ourselves again.”