" "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. Miss Garvice assumed a quality of neutrality, professed herself almost won over by Ann Veronica’s example, and the Scotchman decided that if women had a distinctive sphere it was, at any rate, an enlarging sphere, and no one who believed in the doctrine of evolution could logically deny the vote to women “ultimately,” however much they might be disposed to doubt the advisability of its immediate concession. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. " "Very well, Sir," replied Austin, rising and walking towards them.
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