At length, the body was brought towards him. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. She was still more stirred by the idea of the equal citizenship of men and women, by the realization that a big and growing organization of women were giving form and a generalized expression to just that personal pride, that aspiration for personal freedom and respect which had brought her to London; but when she heard Miss Miniver discoursing on the next step in the suffrage campaign, or read of women badgering Cabinet Ministers, padlocked to railings, or getting up in a public meeting to pipe out a demand for votes and be carried out kicking and screaming, her soul revolted. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. “It isn’t fair.
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