Under the plumed hat, her eye kindled. Here and there, a rectangular patch, darker than the rest, showed that some had been removed. 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. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. He entered the room with his usual deliberation, and looked covertly about him. Anna, why will you persist in this single-handed combat with life?” “Don’t!” she cried. " "Oh. ” “Ye—e—es.
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