MRS. CHINN. Do you mind moving your arm?
GINGER. Beg pardon. (_She shifts_.) Wot I say is, why not give us the
vote and end all the talking?
MRS. CHINN. You think it would have that effect?
GINGER. Well! we don’t want to go on being a nuisance—longer than we can
possibly ’elp!
MRS. CHINN. Daresay you’re right. It’s about the time most people stop.
GINGER. You’ve never thought much about the question yourself, ’ave you,
Mrs. Chinn?
MRS. CHINN. I ain’t fretted much about it.
GINGER. Was a time when I didn’t. I used to be all for—you know—larking
about. I never thought much about anything.
MRS. CHINN. Ah! it’s a useful habit.
GINGER. What is?
MRS. CHINN. Thinking.
GINGER. It’s what we women ’aven’t done enough of—in the past, I mean.
All that’s going to be altered. In the future there’s going to be no
difference between men and women.
MRS. CHINN. (_Slowly_, _quietly she turns upon_ GINGER _her
expressionless eyes_.)
GINGER. Mentally, I mean, o’ course.