He made no response.

“Very well,” I said, at last.  “Let me tell you, then—­I will not help any man to hold such a position in a woman’s life.  Women have to bear half the burdens of marriage, they pay half, or more than half, the penalties; and so it is necessary that they have a voice in its affairs.  Until they know the truth, they can never have a voice.”

Of course my little lecture on Feminism might as well have been delivered to a sphinx.  “How stupid you are!” I cried.  “Don’t you know that some day Sylvia must find out the truth for herself?”

This was before the days when newspapers and magazines began to discuss such matters frankly; but still there were hints to be picked up.  I had a newspaper-item in my bag—­the board of health in a certain city had issued a circular giving instructions for the prevention of blindness in newly-born infants, and discussing the causes thereof; and the United States post office authorities had barred the circular from the mails.  I said, “Suppose that item had come under Sylvia’s eyes; might it not have put her on the track.  It was in her newspaper the day before yesterday; and it was only by accident that I got hold of it first.  Do you suppose that can go on forever?”

“Now that I am here,” he replied, “I will be glad to relieve you of such responsibilities.”

Which naturally made me cross.  I drew from my quiver an arrow that I thought would penetrate his skin.  “Mr. van Tuiver,” I said, “a man in your position must always be an object of gossip and scandal.  Suppose some enemy were to send your wife an anonymous letter?  Or suppose there were some woman who thought that you had wronged her?”

I stopped.  He gave me one keen look—­and then again the impenetrable mask!  “My wife will have to do as other women in her position do—­pay no attention to scandal-mongers of any sort.”

I paused, and then went on:  “I believe in marriage.  I consider it a sacred thing; I would do anything in my power to protect and preserve a marriage.  But I hold that it must be an equal partnership.  I would fight to make it that; and wherever I found that it could not be that, I would say it was not marriage, but slavery, and I would fight just as hard to break it.  Can you not understand that attitude upon a woman’s part?”

He gave no sign that he could understand.  But still I would not give up my battle.  “Mr. van Tuiver,” I pleaded, “I am a much older person than you.  I have seen a great deal of life—­I have seen suffering even worse than yours.  And I am trying most earnestly to help you.  Can you not bring yourself to talk to me frankly?  Perhaps you have never talked with a woman about such matters—­I mean, with a good woman.  But I assure you that other men have found it possible, and never regretted the confidence they placed in me.”