"So I do." Jill sat tight. "But I won't be swept off my feet by ... a sort of hypnotism of Sex! I want to keep an unprejudiced eye. Of course I'd like to see women take a leading place everywhere. But if they make a mess of it, we're worse off than we were before. We stand to lose as well as gain by rushing into public life." She threw back a lock of hair that had fallen forward, blinding her.
"Now, look here, Stephen, we've got a lot ... I'm not talking of influence and the right to expect chivalry—which by the way I think we're losing, through the tactics of the Militants! You've only to stand in a Suffrage crowd and listen to some of the remarks. Why, fifty ... a hundred years ago ... a decent man would have taken umbrage. Men were run through in those days for far less said of their sisters or wives! But—to go back—-we've got some pull. To begin with, men, when they marry, keep us! I dare say I'm old-fashioned. Yes—of course! I knew you'd laugh!—but it's big, really. It means a home—and protection—and a fair chance for ... bringing up a family."
She flushed slightly under his smile, but went on bravely with her argument.
"It seems to me that by and by we'll have to work, share and share alike, ill or well, on equal terms. And what's to become of our home life—and—well ... the next generation?"
Stephen saw his chance at last.
"Are you thinking of marriage yourself, Jill? You seem to arrange for all possibilities..."
His greenish eyes were insolent under their long fair lashes.
"Oh!" She sprang up. "Oh! you beast...!"
But she faced him still, breathless, white.
"At any rate, if I did, I'd live in my own house!" she cried.