The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. “Don’t forget to take off your shoes. I wonder what it was. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. Earles answered, glibly. “She was the High Priestess who turned me in Greece, before Rome. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. Lucy thought he was the most handsome man in the entire world. You are you. But, like all your overbearing sex, you must have your own way. I know now that I was mistaken. “To the view that all women ought to have votes whether they like it or not.
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