‘I am not a fool. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. ” “It is for your good—your good only I am thinking,” he declared. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less. Playing became a way of escape. . "Whose house do you want, master?" said the man, touching his hat.
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