"Can't you see
you've dropped into it? That you----"
"Last night I was honored by your praise of my graceful mode of quitting
it!"
"And so you wish me to be consistent!" she retorted scornfully. "What
becomes of your gallantry when _we_ abide by reason?"
"True enough; equality is a denial of privilege."
"And privilege is a denial of equality. I don't like that at all." She
turned a serious, suddenly illuminated face upon him and spoke earnestly.
"It's my hobby, I should tell you, and I'm very tired of that nonsense
about 'women always sounding the personal note.' It _should_ be sounded as
we would sound it. And I think we could bear the loss of 'privilege'--"
He laughed and raised a protesting hand. "But _we_ couldn't."
"No, you couldn't; it's the ribbon of superiority in your buttonhole. I
know several women who manage to live without men to open doors for them,
and I think I could bear to let a man pass before me now and then, or wear
his hat in an office where I happened to be; and I could get my own ice at
a dance, I think, possibly with even less fuss and scramble than I've
sometimes observed in the young men who have done it for me. But you know
you would never let us do things for ourselves, no matter what legal
equality might be declared, even when we get representation for our
taxation.
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