"I will remember that you have allowed him to come into this drawing-room, and treated him as a guest," said Winnington coldly. "But why, Miss Delia, are you so careful about this man's feelings? And is it still impossible that you should meet my wishes—and refuse to see him again?"
She shook her head—mutely.
"You intend—to see him again?"
"You forget—that we have—business together."
Winnington paused a moment, then came nearer to the chair on which she had dropped.
"This last week—we have been very good friends—haven't we, Miss
Delia?"
"Call me Delia, please!"
"Delia, then!—we have come to understand each other much better—haven't we?"
She made a drooping sign of assent.
"Can't I persuade you—to be guided by me—as your father wished—during these next years of your life? I don't ask you to give up your convictions—your ideals. We should all be poor creatures without them! But I do ask you to give up these violent and illegal methods—this violent and illegal Society—with which you have become entangled. It will ruin your life, and poison your whole nature!—unless you can shake yourself free. Work for the Suffrage as much as you like—but work for it honourably—and lawfully. I ask you—I beg of you!—to give up these associates—and these methods."