LADY JOHN (_kindly, aside to_ MISS LEVERING). My dear, I think Lydia Heriot's right. We oughtn't to do anything or _say_ anything to encourage this ferment of feminism, and I'll tell you why: it's likely to bring a very terrible thing in its train. MISS L. What terrible thing? LADY JOHN. Sex antagonism. MISS L. (_rising_). It's here. LADY JOHN (_very gravely_). Don't say that. (JEAN _has quietly disengaged herself from_ MRS. HERIOT, _and the group at the window returns and stands behind_ LADY JOHN, _looking up into_ MISS LEVERINGS'S _face._) MISS L. (_to_ LADY JOHN). You're so conscious it's here, you're afraid to have it mentioned. LADY JOHN (_turning and seeing_ JEAN. _Rising hastily_). If it's here, it is the fault of those women agitators. MISS L. (_gently_). No woman _begins_ that way. (_Leans forward with clasped hands looking into vacancy._) Every woman's in a state of natural subjection (_smiles at_ JEAN)--no, I'd rather say allegiance to her idea of romance and her hope of motherhood. They're embodied for her in man. They're the strongest things in life--till man kills them. (_Rousing herself and looking into_ LADY JOHN'S _face._) Let's be fair. Each woman knows why that allegiance died. (LADY JOHN _turns hastily, sees_ LORD JOHN _coming down with_ MR. FREDDY _and meets them at the foot of the stairs._ MISS LEVERING _has turned to the table looking for her gloves, &c., among the papers; unconsciously drops the handkerchief she had in her little book._) JEAN (_in a low voice to_ MISS LEVERING). All this talk against the wicked Suffragettes--it makes me want to go and hear what they've got to say for themselves. MISS L. (_smiling with a non-committal air as she finds the veil she's been searching for_). Well, they're holding a meeting in Trafalgar Square at three o'clock. JEAN. This afternoon? But that's no use to people out of town---- Unless I could invent some excuse.... LORD J. (_benevolently_). Still talking over the Shelter plans? MISS L. No. We left the Shelter some time ago. LORD J. (_to_ JEAN). Then what's all the chatterment about? (JEAN, _a little confused, looks at_ MISS LEVERING.) MISS L. The latest thing in veils. (_Ties hers round her hat._) GREAT. The invincible frivolity of woman! LORD J. (_genially_). Don't scold them. It's a very proper topic. MISS L. (_whimsically_). Oh, I was afraid you'd despise us for it. BOTH MEN (_with condescension_). Not at all--not at all. JEAN (_to_ MISS LEVERING _as_ FOOTMAN _appears_). Oh, they're coming for you. Don't forget your book. (FOOTMAN _holds out a salver with a telegram on it for_ JEAN.) Why, it's for me! MISS L. But it's time I was---- (_Crosses to table._)