“That’s the only sensible one of the lot,” said the voice, “and what’s more, she’s worth looking at.”
The crowd was growing restive and noisy. There was the sound of breaking glass. The landlord jerked a thumb in the direction of the front door.
“There you are—they’re getting nasty. You come along with me!”
They went under protest, with the exception of Eve, who paused at the end of the passage and spoke to the little woman with the brown eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’ll send some money for the glass. And what do we owe for the tea?”
“Three shillings, miss. Thank you. And what do you do it for?”
Eve laughed.
“Oh, well, you see——”
“I wouldn’t go along with those scrags, if I were you. It’s silly!”
The little woman had pluck, for she went out to cajole the crowd, and kept it in play while her husband smuggled the suffragettes through the garden and orchard and away across the fields. They escaped unmolested, and the dusk covered their retreat.