MISS E. B. (_goes straight on as if she had not heard_)--man asking: if the women get full citizenship, and a war is declared, will the women fight? POETIC YOUNG MAN. No, really--no, really, now! (_The Crowd_: "Haw! Haw!" "Yes!" "Yes, how about _that?_") MISS E. B. (_smiling_). Well, you know, some people say the whole trouble about us is that we _do_ fight. But it is only hard necessity makes us do that. We don't _want_ to fight--as men seem to--just for fighting's sake. Women are for peace. VOICE. Hear, hear. MISS E. B. And when we have a share in public affairs there'll be less likelihood of war. But that's not to say women can't fight. The Boer women did. The Russian women face conflicts worse than any battlefield can show. (_Her voice shakes a little, and the eyes fill, but she controls her emotion gallantly, and dashes on._) But we women know all that is evil, and we're for peace. Our part--we're proud to remember it--our part has been to go about after you men in war-time, and--_pick up the pieces_! (_A great shout._) Yes--seems funny, doesn't it? You men blow them to bits, and then we come along and put them together again. If you know anything about military nursing, you know a good deal of our work has been done in the face of danger--_but it's always been done_. OLD NEWSVENDOR. That's so. That's so. MISS E. B. You complain that more and more we're taking away from you men the work that's always been yours. You can't any longer keep women out of the industries. The only question is upon what terms shall she continue to be in? As long as she's in on bad terms, she's not only hurting herself--she's hurting you. But if you're feeling discouraged about our competing with you, we're willing to leave you your trade in war. _Let_ the men take life! We _give_ life! (_Her voice is once more moved and proud._) No one will pretend ours isn't one of the dangerous trades either. I won't say any more to you now, because we've got others to speak to you, and a new woman-helper that I want you to hear. (_She retires to the sound of clapping. There's a hurried consultation between her and the_ CHAIRMAN. _Voices in the Crowd_: "The little 'un's all right" "Ernestine's a corker," &c.) JEAN (_looking at_ STONOR _to see how he's taken it_). Well? STONOR (_smiling down at her_). Well---- JEAN. Nothing reprehensible in what _she_ said, was there? STONOR (_shrugs_). Oh, reprehensible! JEAN. It makes me rather miserable all the same. STONOR (_draws her hand protectingly through his arm_). You mustn't take it as much to heart as all that. JEAN. I can't help it--I can't indeed, Geoffrey. I shall _never_ be able to make a speech like that! STONOR (_taken aback_). I hope not, indeed. JEAN. Why, I thought you said you wanted me----? STONOR (_smiling_). To make nice little speeches with composure--so I did! So I---- (_Seems to lose his thread as he looks at her._) JEAN (_with a little frown_). You _said_----