"You!" cried Jack, scornfully. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. It began as a joke. 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. “What do you mean?” Lucy asked. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. And there," he added, placing in his hands a heavy bag of money, and a pocketbook, "is a sum little short of fifteen thousand pounds. Master, your humble servant.
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