GEOFFREY. (_Not remembering_.) _I_ did! Must have been thinking of something else. I shall be in here if you want me. (_He goes into the other room_.) ANNYS. (_She has crossed to her desk_. _She is humming_. _She seats herself_, _takes paper and pen_, _writes_. _Without turning—still writing—she raises her voice_.) Geoffrey! How do you spell “experimental”? One “r” or two? (_There is no answer_. _Puzzled at the silence_, _she looks round_. _The great folding-doors are closed_. _She stares in front of her_, _thinking_, _then turns again to her work_.) CURTAIN. THE SECOND ACT SCENE:—_Liberal Central Committee Rooms_, _East India Dock Road_, _Poplar_. _A large_, _high room on the first floor of an old-fashioned house_. _Two high windows right_. _A door at back is the main entrance_. _A door left leads to other rooms_. _The walls are papered with election literature_. _Conspicuous among the posters displayed is_ “_A Man for Men_.” “_No Petticoat Government_.” “_Will you be Henpecked_?” _A large_, _round table centre is littered with papers and pamphlets_. _A large desk stands between the windows_. _A settee is against the left wall_. (_When the curtain rises_, ROSE MERTON (_otherwise_ “GINGER”) _is discovered seated_, _her left arm resting on the table_. _She is a young lady typical of the Cockney slavey type_, _dressed according to the ideas of her class as regards the perfect lady_. _Her hat is characteristic_. _Her gloves_, _her reticule_, _her umbrella—the latter something rather_ “_saucy_”—_are displayed around her_. _She is feeling comfortable and airing her views_. MRS. CHINN _is laying the cloth over a portion of the table_, _with some tea-things_. MRS. CHINN _is a thin_, _narrow-chested lady with thin hands and bony wrists_. _No one since her husband died has ever seen her without her bonnet_. _Its appearance suggests the possibility that she sleeps in it_. _It is black_, _like her dress_. _The whole figure is decent_, _but dingy_.) GINGER. Wot I say about the question is— MRS. CHINN. Do you mind moving your arm? GINGER. Beg pardon. (_She shifts_.) Wot I say is, why not give us the vote and end all the talking? MRS. CHINN. You think it would have that effect? GINGER. Well! we don’t want to go on being a nuisance—longer than we can possibly ’elp! MRS. CHINN. Daresay you’re right. It’s about the time most people stop. GINGER. You’ve never thought much about the question yourself, ’ave you, Mrs. Chinn? MRS. CHINN. I ain’t fretted much about it. GINGER. Was a time when I didn’t. I used to be all for—you know—larking about. I never thought much about anything. MRS. CHINN. Ah! it’s a useful habit. GINGER. What is? MRS. CHINN. Thinking. GINGER. It’s what we women ’aven’t done enough of—in the past, I mean. All that’s going to be altered. In the future there’s going to be no difference between men and women.