She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. “I thought you weren’t getting along so well with your mother these days. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. ‘And so?’ she asked. All these wonderful comrades, henceforth and for ever hers. He lost control of the machine.
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