Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. Doesn’t matter a bit to me. And among human beings, too, women to begin with were the rulers and leaders; they owned all the property, they invented all the arts. We have to get them to let us in for the profits of their business, and in return we ask them to—dinner. “Hey you,” he said affectionately. "I can, and will. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes.
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