MARGARET. I'm ever so much obliged to you, Monsieur Duvallet.
DUVALLET. Can I be of any further assistance, mademoiselle?
MARGARET. I think you had better leave us to fight it out, if you dont
mind.
DUVALLET. Perfectly. Madame [bow]--Mademoiselle [bow]--Monsieur
[bow]--[He goes out].
MRS KNOX. Dont ring, Jo. See the gentleman out yourself.
_Knox hastily sees Duvallet out. Mother and daughter sit looking
forlornly at one another without saying a word. Mrs Knox slowly sits
down. Margaret follows her example. They look at one another again. Mr
Knox returns._
KNOX. [shortly and sternly] Amelia: this is your job. [To Margaret] I
leave you to your mother. I shall have my own say in the matter when I
hear what you have to say to her. [He goes out, solemn and offended].
MARGARET. [with a bitter little laugh] Just what the Suffraget said to
me in Holloway. He throws the job on you.
MRS KNOX. [reproachfully] Margaret!
MARGARET. You know it's true.
MRS KNOX. Margaret: if youre going to be hardened about it, theres no
use my saying anything.
MARGARET. I'm not hardened, mother. But I cant talk nonsense about
it. You see, it's all real to me. Ive suffered it. Ive been shoved and
bullied. Ive had my arms twisted. Ive been made scream with pain in
other ways. Ive been flung into a filthy cell with a lot of other poor
wretches as if I were a sack of coals being emptied into a cellar. And
the only difference between me and the others was that I hit back. Yes
I did. And I did worse. I wasnt ladylike. I cursed. I called names. I
heard words that I didnt even know that I knew, coming out of my mouth
just as if somebody else had spoken them. The policeman repeated them
in court. The magistrate said he could hardly believe it. The policeman
held out his hand with his two teeth in it that I knocked out. I said
it was all right; that I had heard myself using those words quite
distinctly; and that I had taken the good conduct prize for three years
running at school. The poor old gentleman put me back for the missionary
to find out who I was, and to ascertain the state of my mind. I wouldnt
tell, of course, for your sakes at home here; and I wouldnt say I was
sorry, or apologize to the policeman, or compensate him or anything of
that sort. I wasnt sorry. The one thing that gave me any satisfaction
was getting in that smack on his mouth; and I said so. So the missionary
reported that I seemed hardened and that no doubt I would tell who I was
after a day in prison. Then I was sentenced. So now you see I'm not a
bit the sort of girl you thought me. I'm not a bit the sort of girl I
thought myself. And I dont know what sort of person you really are, or
what sort of person father really is. I wonder what he would say or do
if he had an angry brute of a policeman twisting his arm with one hand
and rushing him along by the nape of his neck with the other. He couldnt
whirl his leg like a windmill and knock a policeman down by a glorious
kick on the helmet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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