It reflected itself in her slightly heightened
colour, in the increased brilliance of her eyes, in the confident case of
all her movements. It added a compelling softness to her voice.
She never quite remembered what the talk was about. Men were brought up
and presented to her, and hung about her words, and sought to please her.
She had spoken her own thoughts, indifferent whether they expressed
agreement or not; and the argument had invariably taken another plane. It
seemed so important that she should be convinced. Some had succeeded,
and had been strengthened. Others had failed, and had departed
sorrowful, conscious of the necessity of "thinking it out again."
Guests with other engagements were taking their leave. A piquante little
woman, outrageously but effectively dressed--she looked like a drawing by
Beardsley--drew her aside. "I've always wished I were a man," she said.
"It seemed to me that they had all the power. From this afternoon, I
shall be proud of belonging to the governing sex."
She laughed and slipped away.
Phillips was waiting for her in the vestibule.
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