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. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. For fifteen years!—so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a little love, a caress now and then. How I could have been such a fool I’ll never know. . In your heart you know quite well that all that you have said is useless. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir.
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