"Ah, what for can he be wanting to see me home?" she thought helplessly.
"He is so wonderful. But then, so am I! So am I!" And as they went
through the dark tangle of small streets she turned loose on him her
enthusiasm for the meeting, so that he might see that women also have
their serious splendours. Hadn't it been a magnificent meeting? Wasn't
Mrs. Ormiston a grand speaker? Could he possibly, if he cared anything
for honesty, affirm that he had ever heard a man speaker who came within
a hundred miles of her? And wasn't Mrs. Mark Lyle beautiful, and didn't
she remind him of the early Christian martyrs? Didn't he think the women
who were forcibly fed were heroines, and didn't he think the Liberal
Governments were the most abominable bloodstained tyrants of our times?
"Though, mind you, I'd be with the Liberal Party myself if they'd only
give us the vote." It was rather like going for a walk with a puppy
barking at one's heels, but he liked it. Through her talk he noticed
little things about her. She had had very little to do with men,
perhaps she had never walked with a man before, for she did not
naturally take the wall when they crossed the road. Her voice was soft
and seemed to cling to her lips, as red-haired people's voices often do.
Her heels did not click on the pavements; she walked noiselessly, as
though she trod on grass.

Suddenly she clapped her bare hands. "Ah, if you're a sympathiser you
must join the Men's League for Women's Suffrage. You will? Oh, that's
fine! I've never brought in a member yet...." She paused, furious with
herself, for she was so very young that she hated ever to own that she
was doing anything for the first time. It was her aim to appear
infinitely experienced. Usually, she thought, she succeeded.

To end the silence, so that she might say something to which he could
listen, he said, "I was converted long before to-night, you know. My