GEOFFREY. What line are you going to take—what is your argument: why
they should vote for you in preference to me?
ANNYS. Simply that I am a woman.
GEOFFREY. My dear child, that won’t be enough. Why should they vote for
you merely because you’re a woman?
ANNYS. (_Slightly astonished_.) Because—because women are wanted in
public life.
GEOFFREY. Who wants them?
ANNYS. (_More astonished_.) Who? Why—(_it doesn’t seem too clear_.)
Why, all of us—you, yourself!
GEOFFREY. I’m not East Poplar.
ANNYS. (_Is puzzled a moment_, _then valiantly_.) I shall ask them to
send me to Parliament to represent the interests of their women—and
therefore of themselves—the interests of their children.
GEOFFREY. Children! What do you know about children?
(_Another silence_.)
ANNYS. Personally—no. We have had no children of our own, of course.
But (_hopefully_) it is a woman’s instinct.
GEOFFREY. Oh, Lord! That’s what the lady said who had buried seven.
ANNYS. (_Her mouth is growing hard_.) Don’t you believe in the right of
women to share in the government of the country?