The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. Some day, when the rewards of literature permit the arduous research required, the Campaign of the Women will find its Carlyle, and the particulars of that marvellous series of exploits by which Miss Brett and her colleagues nagged the whole Western world into the discussion of women’s position become the material for the most delightful and amazing descriptions. (“No, no. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear.
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