He laughed uproariously; he wished he could repeat that to Laura Childs, but of course he couldn't. However, the fellows would appreciate it. "As for babies," Fred said, with a shrug, "there's going to be lots of reform along that line. To merely rear children is a pretty poor job for an intellectual being. Did I tell you what I pulled off in a speech at our club?... '_The child is the jailer that has kept woman in prison._' Don't you think that's pretty well put?" "Bully," he said. Then she told him that she had found a bungalow out on the north side of the lake--"the unfashionable side; that place they call Lakeville; all camps. You know? It's just beyond Laketon, where the nice, useless rich people go." She was going to hire it for the summer, she said, and take occasional days off from business, and get up a rattling good speech on woman suffrage--"and sex-slavery. The abolishment of that is what we're really working for, and it will come when we face Truth! Until now, women have been fed up on lies." She would live by herself: "I don't mean to have even a maid; I'm going to be on my own bat. I suppose Grandmother will throw a fit; she'll say, 'It isn't _done_!' That's Grandmother's climax of horror. She'd have said it to every Reformer who ever lived." "You don't mean to say you'll stay there at night, all alone?" he said, astonished. "Of course. Why not?" "Won't you be frightened?" "Frightened? What of? Would _you_ be frightened?" When he was obliged to admit that he would not be what you'd call frightened, "but a girl--" "Rot! Why should a girl be frightened? I shall take a revolver." After that, naturally, Feminism became the engrossing theme, bringing with it, as usual, those shallow generalizations that so often belittle this vital and terrible subject, even as creeds sometimes belittle Religion. To Fred's mind, as to many serious minds, Feminism had a religious significance; but she did not know--arrogance never does know!--the stigma her conceit put upon her cause.