“Yes. I’m glad you’re back for all sorts of reasons.” He spoke a little nervously. “Among other things, you know, I didn’t understand quite--I didn’t understand that you were so keenly interested in this suffrage question. I have it on my conscience that I offended you--” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. I was rude and stupid. We were talking about the suffrage--and I rather scoffed.” “You weren’t rude,” she said. “I didn’t know you were so keen on this suffrage business.” “Nor I. You haven’t had it on your mind all this time?” “I have rather. I felt somehow I’d hurt you.” “You didn’t. I--I hurt myself.” “I mean--” “I behaved like an idiot, that’s all. My nerves were in rags. I was worried. We’re the hysterical animal, Mr. Capes. I got myself locked up to cool off. By a sort of instinct. As a dog eats grass. I’m right again now.” “Because your nerves were exposed, that was no excuse for my touching them. I ought to have seen--” “It doesn’t matter a rap--if you’re not disposed to resent the--the way I behaved.” “_I_ resent!” “I was only sorry I’d been so stupid.” “Well, I take it we’re straight again,” said Capes with a note of relief, and assumed an easier position on the edge of her table. “But if you weren’t keen on the suffrage business, why on earth did you go to prison?” Ann Veronica reflected. “It was a phase,” she said. He smiled. “It’s a new phase in the life history,” he remarked. “Everybody seems to have it now. Everybody who’s going to develop into a woman.” “There’s Miss Garvice.” “She’s coming on,” said Capes. “And, you know, you’re altering us all. I’M shaken. The campaign’s a success.” He met her questioning eye, and repeated, “Oh! it IS a success. A man is so apt to--to take women a little too lightly. Unless they remind him now and then not to.... YOU did.” “Then I didn’t waste my time in prison altogether?” “It wasn’t the prison impressed me. But I liked the things you said here. I felt suddenly I understood you--as an intelligent person. If you’ll forgive my saying that, and implying what goes with it. There’s something--puppyish in a man’s usual attitude to women. That is what I’ve had on my conscience.... I don’t think we’re altogether to blame if we don’t take some of your lot seriously. Some of your sex, I mean. But we smirk a little, I’m afraid, habitually when we talk to you. We smirk, and we’re a bit--furtive.” He paused, with his eyes studying her gravely. “You, anyhow, don’t deserve it,” he said.