"There is something in these your theories," interposed Boussingault, rushing to his conclusion, "but here you go too far and there half-way. In Germany, until German bureaucracy captures them, they are the great aids to the revolt of Womankind, your theories. Educate for parenthood, endow mothers, pension during pregnancy and nursing--what then? Name of God! You have more to do than that, my friend--_we_ have more to do: we have to give every child born an equal chance, every man how much he earns; we must build a society where no superstition, no economic strain, no selfish 'usband keeps childless the woman that wants to be and ought to be a mother in marriage or outside; and we must recognise of all other women their inalienable right to refuse motherhood!" Stainton rose quickly. "Here comes my wife," he said. "I am afraid we shall have to hurry away, doctor." XII MONTMARTRE Alone in their _taxi-metre_, Stainton and Muriel preserved for some time an awkward silence. Jim was waiting for some hint from her to indicate what would be his safest course. His wife sat rigid, her fists clenched in her lap. "That doctor is a strange type," said Stainton at last. "Horrid man! He's a _horrid_ man!" gasped Muriel. "Well, of course," said Stainton, seeking to steer her into the quiescence of a judicial attitude, "he is all wrong in his conclusions----" "He picked his teeth," said Muriel. Jim had preserved his own good manners to the age of fifty, but his years in mining-camps had blunted his observation of the lack of nicety in others. "Did he?" asked Jim. "Didn't you _see_ him? He carries a gold toothpick around with him. I believe he was proud of it. It's--that's what made me sick." "Then," enquired Jim, growing uncomfortable, "it wasn't what he said?" "Said? You both sat up there and quarrelled----" "We didn't quarrel. The doctor has what seems to be the national manner, but we were merely discussing----" "You were discussing me!" said Muriel. "I thought I should die. I don't know how I bore it; I----" Jim slipped his arm around her waist. "My dear, my dear, how could you think such a thing? We were talking about a general subject. We were----Why, we didn't say anything that could possibly affect you." "I don't care," Muriel declared: "everything that _he said_--that man--was awful." "It was," admitted Stainton, glad that the burden of offence had again been shifted to Boussingault's shoulders. "It was, rather. I didn't know whether you were paying attention to it at all. To some of it I hoped you weren't." "Nobody could help hearing such shouting. I was so afraid there might be some English or Americans there." "Still, you didn't appear to hear,"--Stainton spoke with relief at thought of this,--"so it was as well as it could be." "I must have shown it, Jim. I thought my face would burn away." "At any rate, you didn't talk." "How _could_ I?" Stainton was silent for a few seconds. Then he asked: