’ Triumph leapt in Gerald’s chest. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. ‘Very inventive. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. “But if you had?” she said. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. They walked two by two to the car, looking the part of 267 two weary spouses supporting their drunken mates after an all-night bender. There are a thousand questions I'd like to ask you, but I sha'n't ask them. You are to make for that and get into the lobby if you can, and so try and reach the floor of the House, crying ‘Votes for Women!’ as you go.
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