“Manfreda, in your woman’s age of pure logic, is the accused still permitted to defend himself, or am I brought here simply to hear a sentence passed upon me?” She was visibly surprised at this challenge, but recovering herself, she replied coldly: “You have every right to defend yourself.” “Then may I inquire what is the penalty which may be imposed upon me if I am considered guilty in your eyes of the charges you have brought against me?” “There is only one punishment, Bogardus, as you know.” “For great crimes and little offences.” “The crime is always against the sanctity of the law. We impose no laws unless we intend to have them observed.” “Then the punishment is invariably death?” “We do not take human life.” “Then if guilty, I shall be returned to the Frigidrome and translated to another century,” I exclaimed eagerly. “You are right, Bogardus.” “Ladies,” I cried joyfully, “you see before you the happiest prisoner in history. I am certain that you will find me guilty. You must if you hold as strictly to justice as you claim, and I demand now as my right the immediate infliction of the penalty.” I heard a low groan from Dianne behind me, and at the same time I noticed that the anger seemed to depart from Acquilla’s furrowed brow. “The accused is wanting in respect,” said Doctrina severely. “Perhaps,” I took up instantly, “but is that not precisely the whole of my offending? I come from that uncivilized age, that strangely emotional age, that age of curious sentimentalities and when I am introduced to this woman-ruled society I remain un-impressed. And because, my dear ladies, you are afraid to answer my arguments you are going to send me to another age, perhaps another world. I answer as we used to answer. How like a woman!” The taunt which I had flung out intentionally, to procure a hearing, stirred the assembly to violent protests. Doctrina and some of the council were on their feet demanding to reply. Manfreda, however, without any further show of emotion, calmed the council and waved them back to their seats. From that moment I felt secure of being heard, for I knew that if there was one weakness in the coldly logically composition of Manfreda it was the age-old primitive instinct of women. Manfreda intended to have the last word. “You are in error, Bogardus,” she said in chiselled accents. “There will be no obstacle placed in the way of anything you wish to say. Now may I ask you to return to the point. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?” “I might retort, Manfreda,” I replied, “that I should like to be informed on what evidence I am accused?” “It is hardly necessary to remind you, Bogardus,” she replied with a spidery satisfaction, “that every word and every movement you have made since you were in the Club has been heard and noted by every woman in the state. But to proceed to overt acts. Do you deny that you were the author of the ultimatum delivered by the young males to the Histriones?”