Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. At the sound of the door Ann Veronica uncovered a tearless face, and with one swift movement assumed a conversational attitude. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself. Katy had sneered at her for a moment, their eyes locking. “I am too much in earnest,” he answered, “to be able to take this matter lightly. Bah! She does not know me very well, and you—not at all. I love to research, not just for school. . "Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. He had forgiven everybody. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble.
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