“’Scuse me, miss, I’ll walk to the gates with you. There are too many of these young blackguard fools about.”
“Thank you very much.”
“I’ve got a lot of sympathy with the women, but seems to me some of ’em are on the wrong road.”
She looked at him interestedly. He was big and fresh coloured and quiet, and reminded her in his coarser way of James Canterton.
“You think so?”
“It don’t do to lose your temper, even in a game, and that’s what some of the women are doing. We’re reasonable sort of creatures, and it’s no use going back to the old boot and claw business.”
“What they say is that they have tried reasoning, and that men would not listen.”
He laughed.
“That’s rot! Excuse me, miss. You’ve got to give reason a chance, and a pretty long chance. Do you think we working men won what we’ve got in three months? You have to go on shoving and shoving, and in the end, if you’ve got common sense on your side, you push the public through. You can’t expect things turned all topsy-turvy in ten minutes, because a few women get up on carts and scream. They ought to know better.”
“They say it is the only thing that’s left.”