Her head was thrown back, her body swayed, rocked from side to side with the violent rhythm of her speech.

“If you ask me why they have chosen me I will tell you.  It’s because I know what I want and because I know how to get what I want.

“I know what I want.  Oh, yes, you think that’s nothing; you all think you know what you want.  But do you? Do you?”

“Of course we do!”

“We want the vote!”

“Nothing but the vote!”

“Nothing but? Are you quite sure of that?  Can you even say you want it till you know whether there are things you want more?”

“What are you driving at?”

“You’ll soon see what I’m driving at.  I drive straight.  And I ride straight.  And I don’t funk my fences.

“Well—­say you all want the vote.  Do you know how much you want it?  Do you know how much you want to pay for it?  Do you know what you’re prepared to give up for it?  Because, if you don’t know that, you don’t know how much you want it.”

“We want it as much as you do, I imagine.”

“You want it as much as I do?  Good. Then you’re going to pay the price whatever the price is. Then you’re ready to give up everything else, your homes and your families and your friends and your incomes.  Until you’re enfranchised you are not going to own any man as father, or brother or husband” (her voice rang with a deeper and stronger vibration) “or lover, or friend.  And the man who does not agree with you, the man who refuses you the vote, the man who opposes your efforts to get the vote, the man who, whether he agrees with you or not, will not help you to get it, you count as your enemy.  That is wanting the vote.  That is wanting it as much as I do.

“You women—­are you prepared to go against your men?  To give up your men?”

There were cries of “Rather!” from two of the eleven young girls who had come too soon.

Miss Burstall shook her head and murmured, “Hopeless confusion of thought.  If this is what it’s going to be like, Heaven help us!”

“You really are getting a bit mixed,” said Dorothy.

“We protest—­”

“Protest then; protest as much as you like.  Then we shall know where we are; then we shall get things straight; then we can begin.  You all want the vote.  Some of you don’t know how much, but at least you know you want it.  Nobody’s confused about that.  Do you know how you’re going to get it?  Tell me that.”

Lest they should spoil it all by telling her Miss Blackadder increased her vehement pace.  “You don’t because you can’t and I will tell you.  You won’t get it by talking about it or by writing about it, or by sitting down and thinking about it, you’ll get it by coming in with me, coming in with the Women’s Franchise Union, and fighting for it.  Fighting women, not talkers—­not writers—­not thinkers are what we want!” She sat down, heaving a little with the ground-swell of her storm, amid applause in which only Miss Burstall and Miss Farmer did not join.  She was now looking extraordinarily handsome.