Then she realized that it was her business to let Manning talk and impose his own interpretations upon the situation so far as he was concerned. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. “Have you any money?” “Lots,” Anna answered laconically. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. “Excellent fellow!” he answered a little irrelevantly.
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