Silk. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you. "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred, rising. "Patience Kite has lured him to Enfield on a false scent after Blueskin. Manning, all this sort of thing is very well as sentiment, but does it correspond with the realities? Are women truly such angelic things and men so chivalrous? You men have, I know, meant to make us Queens and Goddesses, but in practice—well, look, for example, at the stream of girls one meets going to work of a morning, round-shouldered, cheap, and underfed! They aren’t queens, and no one is treating them as queens.
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