"I know the woman is weak. But I do not blame her; I pity her. When the
time comes, as soon it will, when woman is no longer a puppet, dancing to
the threads held by some brainless man--when a woman is not threatened
with social ostracism for daring to follow her own conscience instead of
that of her nearest male relative--then will be the time to judge her. It
is not for me to betray the confidence reposed in me by a suffering
woman, but you can tell that interesting old fossil, Colonel Maxim, that
he and the other old women of the Bermondsey Branch of the Primrose
League may elect Mrs. Clifton Courtenay for their President, and make the
most of it; they have only got the outside of the woman. Her heart is
beating time to the tramp of an onward-marching people; her soul's eyes
are straining for the glory of a coming dawn."
But they all agreed she was a charming woman.