"Well, we won't get anywhere until men are with us, and help us, and that's—never!"
"It's too late to say that. We're started, we are far on the way, we've got to convert them."
"Have you tried your hand at converting Jerry?" Bobs laughed. "I advise you not to try. He once put it all into a phrase— The woman I marry must have only one career—Jerry Paxton.'"
"They don't know what we're talking about; they don't want to know. They refuse to admit what education and economic conditions have done to us. It means a readjustment. It's uncomfortable. They won't have it."
"It's human nature to fight change, but change takes place every second, just the same," said Jane.
"I hope change breeds a brand of us without sex instinct before I come again," said Bobs, and went away.
Jane sat still where she had left her for several minutes. She was weak, as if she had looked on at a fellow creature bleeding to death. When she went out later, her thoughts were still full of Bobs and how she could help her. It was part of her problem now. If Jerry's careless philandering had thrown all the forces of the girl's nature into panic and revolt, surely it was a part of the new woman-thought in the world that Jerry's wife should work for her restoration.
Daily visits to her secret room followed. Jerry was absorbed in his work, restless and overwrought when he had leisure. They lived like two ghosts, passing to and fro, each unaware of the other.
Mrs. Brendon and the Bryces both entertained at dinners, in honour of the Paxtons. Jane went through both ordeals with credit, looked handsome, and was much admired. Jerry complimented her on the way home from the Brandons', and inquired if she enjoyed it.