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. She refrained. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. His treatment of his wife is most unsatisfactory. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy. ‘Say it. He brightened as she took off her hood. ‘Is that a gesture of friendship?’ She stamped her foot. “Oh! please don’t lose yourself in a wilderness of secondary considerations,” she said. And as she was yet waiting for her tea to come she saw this man again. ‘You talk together of me as if I am not there. I wondered what you could be doing and what might be happening to you. Old Newgate 302 X. And for me there is only one treasure-house.
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