"It is all Huntter! Huntter! All men! men! and there stands my
dear--alone! No one goes to her to let--_her_ choose; no one but me!
Don't you see what I mean? Oh! my love, my love! My good, good man, can
you leave her there in ignorance, all of you? Through the ages she has
not had her say--about the chance, and that is why----"
Priscilla paused, choked by rising passion.
"Little girl, listen! What do you mean?" Travers was genuinely alarmed
and anxious.
"I mean"--the white, set face looked like an avenger's, not a
passionately loving woman's--"I mean--that because women have never had
an opportunity to know and to choose, you and I, and all people like us,
stand helpless with our own great heaven-sent love at peril!"
"At peril! Oh, my dear girl!"
"Yes, at peril. We do not know what to do, where to turn. You see the
great injustice clearly as I do; but you--all men have tried to right it
by themselves, in their way, while all women, through all the ages, have
stood aside and tried to think they were doing God's will when they
accepted--your best; your _half_ best! Now, oh! now something--I think it
is God calling loud to them--is waking them up.
Pages:
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376