” The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners of her mouth —humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. There were three exit doors. “I didn’t know you were so keen on this suffrage business. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you. ’ ‘It is true,’ insisted the lady. ” She said. She was no longer there. ” So they talked on whilst supper was served, falling easily into the spirit of the place, and yet both of them conscious of some new thing underlying the gaiety of their tongues and manner.
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