"
Ivy shook her head. She had a troubled expression, as if the
experience of the evening had agitated her.
Close at hand, a circle of men had formed about Mr. Chown, who was
haranguing on the Woman question. What he wanted was to emancipate
the female mind from the yoke of superstition and of priestcraft.
Time enough to talk about giving women votes when they were no
longer the slaves of an obstructive religion. There were good things
in the lecture, but, on the whole, it was flabby--flabby. A man
who would discourse on this topic must be courageous; he must dare
to shock and give offence. Now, if _he_ had been lecturing----
Glazzard beckoned to his niece, and led her out of ear-shot of these
utterances. In a minute or two they were joined by the chairman, who
had already equipped himself for departure.
"Bah! I have a splitting headache," said William. "Let us get home."
Quarrier was still on the platform, but at this moment he caught
Glazzard's eye, and came hastening down. His friend stepped forward
to meet him.
"Well, how did it go?" Denzil asked, gaily.
"You have great aptitude for that kind of thing."
"So it strikes me.--Will you engage yourself to dine with me the
day after to-morrow?"
"Willingly."
"I have an idea. You remember the Coach and Horses--over at
Rickstead?"
It was a fine old country inn, associated in their memories of
boyhood with hare-and-hounds and other sportive excursions.
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