Phoebe. It’s awfully rough on you, Geoffrey. I can see it from your point of view. But one can’t help remembering the things that you yourself have said.
Geoffrey. I know; I know. I’ve been going up and down the country, excusing even your excesses on the ground that no movement can force its way to the front without treading on innumerable toes. For me, now, to cry halt merely because it happens to be my own toes that are in the way would be—ridiculous—absurd—would be monstrous. (Nobody contradicts him.) You are perfectly justified—if this case means what you say it does—in putting up a candidate against me for East Poplar. Only, naturally, it cannot be Annys. (He reaches out his hand to where Annys stands a little behind him, takes her hand.) Annys and I have fought more than one election. It has been side by side.
Elizabeth. The lady a little behind.
Geoffrey. (He moves away with an expression of deep annoyance.)
Janet. (She comes forward. She holds forth her hands with a half-appealing, half-commanding gesture. She almost seems inspired.) Would it not be so much better if, in this first political contest between man and woman, the opponents were two people honouring one another, loving one another? Would it not show to all the world that man and woman may meet—contend in public life without anger, without scorn? (There is a pause. They stand listening.) I do not know, but it seems to me that if Mr. Chilvers could bring himself to do this it would be such a big thing—perhaps the most chivalrous thing that a man has ever done to help women. If he would put aside, quite voluntarily, all the man’s privilege—just say to the people, “Now choose—one of us two to serve you. We stand before you, equal, my wife and I.” I don’t know how to put it, but I feel that by merely doing that one thing Mr. Chilvers would solve the whole problem. It would prove that good men are ready to give us of their free accord all that we claim. We should gain our rights, not by warfare, but through love and understanding. Wouldn’t that be—so much better? (She looks—her hands still appealing—from one to the other.)
(Another silence. They have all been carried a little off their feet by Janet’s earnestness.)
Annys. (She touches him.) What do you think, dear?
Geoffrey. Yes, there’s a good deal, of course, in what Miss Blake says.
Annys. It would be a big thing for you to do.
Phoebe. You see, whatever happened, the seat would be yours. This case only gives us the right to go to the poll. We are keen upon Annys because she’s our best card, that’s all.