They went to various central and local Fabian gatherings, and to a number of suffrage meetings. She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. She could not say who, not yet. “Oh, you know,” she said. 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. The women’s meeting was much more charged with emotional force than the Socialists’. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. I must finish it at home. That’s why I chucked Manning. He was amused.
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