"I would not consider it, thanks." "Why not?" "I have many things to do." "I think being inspiration to a painter would be more desirable for a woman than just looking after studios." "I think doing her own work, whatever it is, is the most important thing for a woman." "Heavens! Jane Judd, are you one of these 'woman's rights, right or wrong' preachers? You aren't a suffragette, and a freewomaner, are you?" "Yes." "Have we nourished a bomb in the studios all these years? Don't get me started on the woman question. I'm a regular cave man." "All right, I won't get you started." "It was a great mistake to begin giving woman an education. It has messed things up dreadfully." "For women, you mean?" "No, for men." "Oh." "You don't think that matters?" "Not especially. The progress of the world is what matters, isn't it? Change is always uncomfortable." "You've got everything to gain; we're the only losers, so no wonder you're reconciled to it." "No, we'll all gain by a fairer adjustment. It is just as uncomfortable for women, now, as it is for men. After all, how can it help but be, since we live our lives together, since our main interests are one." "But we aren't going on living together! Men are getting sick of it. If women don't let up on these demands we are going to stop marrying them altogether." Jane tried not to laugh. "What about the demands men have always made on women?" "Those were natural demands." "Habitual, you mean. "We can run the world very well indeed without this army of half-baked females, thank you." "Can you? That's an interesting discovery. What method have you invented for populating the world you can run without us?" "Don't talk about it. It always makes me mad!" "All right," Jane agreed sweetly. "I suppose you pride yourself on keeping your temper." "No. But people who have anything to win never profit by losing their tempers." "You don't look like a female freebooter. You're the arch-type of womanly woman. At this moment, you look like the priestess of the home." He wondered at the slow flush that came up over her neck and face, the strange yearning look that was gone before he half saw it. He painted on, speculating about her, while Jane fought for composure. In the weeks since her first visit from Christiansen, a new world had opened for Jane, a new infection swept through her blood. Cooper Union had opened up one field, Union Square another. She had joined a class in New York University for a historic study of Woman, her biologic and economic aspects, her accomplishments and her ambitions. She talked to people everywhere, these days. She made friends with a group of girls in the class, and invited them to her room.