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She winced； but she respected him for saying what he
did； for this； after all； was a fragment of the truth which
she had vowed to live by。
“And to me marriage without love doesn’t seem worth
while；” she said。
“Well； Mary； I’m not going to press you；” he said。 “I see
you don’t want to marry me。 But love—don’t we all talk a
great deal of nonsense about it？ What does one mean？ I
believe I care for you more genuinely than nine men out
of ten care for the women they’re in love with。 It’s only a
story one makes up in one’s mind about another person；
and one knows all the time it isn’t true。 Of course one
knows； why； one’s always taking care not to destroy the
illusion。 One takes care not to see them too often； or to
be alone with them for too long together。 It’s a pleasant
illusion； but if you’re thinking of the risks of marriage； it
seems to me that the risk of marrying a person you’re in
love with is something colossal。”
“I don’t believe a word of that； and what’s more you
don’t； either；” she replied with anger。 “However； we don’t
agree； I only wanted you to understand。” She shifted her
position； as if she were about to go。 An instinctive desire
to prevent her from leaving the room made Ralph rise at
this point and begin pacing up and down the nearly empty
kitchen； checking his desire； each time he reached the
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door； to open it and step out into the garden。 A moralist
might have said that at this point his mind should have
been full of selfreproach for the suffering he had caused。
On the contrary； he was extremely angry； with the confused
impotent anger of one who finds himself unreasonably
but efficiently frustrated。 He was trapped by the
illogicality of human life。 The obstacles in the way of his
desire seemed to him purely artificial； and yet he could
see no way of removing them。 Mary’s words； the tone of
her voice even； angered him； for she would not help him。
She was part of the insanely jumbled muddle of a world
which impedes the sensible life。 He would have liked to
slam the door or break the hind legs of a chair； for the
obstacles had taken some such curiously substantial shape
in his mind。
“I doubt that one human being ever understands another；”
he said； stopping in his march and confronting
Mary at a distance of a few feet。
“Such damned liars as we all are； how can we？ But we
can try。 If you don’t want to marry me； don’t； but the
position you take up about love； and not seeing each
other—isn’t that mere sentimentality？ You think I’ve
behaved very badly；” he continued； as she did not speak。
“Of course I behave badly； but you can’t judge people by
what they do。 You can’t go through life measuring right
and wrong with a footrule。 That’s what you’re always
doing； Mary； that’s what you’re doing now。”
She saw herself in the Suffrage Office； delivering judgment；
meting out right and wrong； and there seemed to
her to be some justice in the charge； although it did not
affect her main position。
“I’m not angry with you；” she said slowly。 “I will go on
seeing you； as I said I would。”
It was true that she had promised that much already；
and it was difficult for him to say what more it was that
he wanted—some intimacy； some help against the ghost
of Katharine； perhaps； something that he knew he had no
right to ask； and yet； as he sank into his chair and looked
once more at the dying fire it seemed to him that he had
been defeated； not so much by Mary as by life itself。 He
felt himself thrown back to the beginning of life again；
where everything has yet to be won； but in extreme youth
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one has an ignorant hope。 He was no longer certain that
he would triumph。
CHAPTER XX
Happily for Mary Datchet she returned to the office to
find that by some obscure Parliamentary maneuver the
vote had once more slipped beyond the attainment of
women。 Mrs。 Seal was in a condition bordering upon frenzy。
The duplicity of Ministers； the treachery of mankind； the
insult to womanhood； the setback to civilization； the ruin
of her life’s work； the feelings of her father’s daughter—
all these topics were discussed in turn； and the office
was littered with newspaper cuttings branded with the
blue； if ambiguous； marks of her displeasure。 She confessed
herself at fault in her estimate of human nature。
“The simple elementary acts of justice；” she said； waving
her hand towards the window； and indicating the foot
passengers and omnibuses then passing down the far side
of Russell Square； “are as far beyond them as they ever
were。 We can only look upon ourselves； Mary； as pioneers
in a wilderness。 We can only go on patiently putting the
truth before them。 It isn’t them；” she continued； taking
heart from her sight of the traffic； “it’s their leaders。 It’s
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those gentlemen sitting in Parliament and drawing four
hundred a year of the people’s money。 If we had to put our
case to the people； we should soon have justice done to
us。 I have always believed in the people； and I do so still。
But—” She shook her head and implied that she would
give them one more chance； and if they didn’t take advantage
of that she couldn’t answer for the consequences。
Mr。 Clacton’s attitude was more philosophical and better
supported by statistics。 He came into the room after
Mrs。 Seal’s outburst and pointed out； with historical illustrations；
that such reverses had happened in every
political campaign of any importance。 If anything； his
spirits were improved by the disaster。 The enemy； he said；
had taken the offensive； and it was now up to the Society
to outwit the enemy。 He gave Mary to understand that he
had taken the measure of their cunning； and had already
bent his mind to the task which； so far as she could make
out； depended solely upon him。 It depended； so she came
to think； when invited into his room for a private conference；
upon a systematic revision of the cardindex； upon
the issue of certain new lemoncolored leaflets； in which
the facts were marshaled once more in a very striking
way； and upon a large scale map of England dotted with
little pins tufted with differently colored plumes of hair
according to their geographical position。 Each district；
under the new system； had its flag； its bottle of ink； its
sheaf of documents tabulated and filed for reference in a
drawer； so that by looking under M or S； as the case might
be； you had all the facts with respect to the Suffrage
organizations of that county at your fingers’ ends。 This
would require a great deal of work； of course。
“We must try to consider ourselves rather in the light of
a telephone exchange—for the exchange of ideas； Miss
Datchet；” he said； and taking pleasure in his image； he
continued it。 “We should consider ourselves the center of
an enormous system of wires； connecting us up with every
district of the country。 We must have our fingers upon
the pulse of the munity； we want to know what people
all over England are thinking； we want to put them in the
way of thinking rightly。” The system； of course； was only
roughly sketched so far—jotted down； in fact； during the
Christmas holidays。
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“When you ought to have been taking a rest； Mr。
Clacton；” said Mary dutifully； but her tone was flat and
tired。
“We learn to do without holidays； Miss Datchet；” said
Mr。 Clacton； with a spark of satisfaction in his eye。
He wished particularly to have her opinion of the lemon
colored leaflet。 According to his plan； it was to be distributed
in immense quantities immediately； in order to
stimulate and generate； “to generate and stimulate；” he
repeated； “right thoughts in the country before the meeting
of Parliament。”
“We have to take the enemy by surprise；” he said。 “They
don’t let the grass grow under their feet。 Have you seen
Bingham’s address to his constituents？ That’s a hint of
the sort of thing we’ve go