'I've no idea! But if I had done it, it would be!'
'Why? For a vote on who sits in Parliament?'
Florence's tolerance snapped, and she stood up sharply, the raffia basket and needle falling to the carpet. She faced Charlotte with stinging condescension.
' 'Do you think you are intelligent? Capable of learning? Do you have emotions, even passions? Do you know anything about people, about children? Do you even know what you want for yourself?''
'Yes of course I do,' Charlotte said instantly.
'Are you sure you are not just an overgrown child?'
Now Charlotte was equally angry. She rose as well, the color burning in her cheeks. 'Yes I am perfectly sure!' she hissed back through her teeth. 'I am very perceptive about people, I have learned a great deal about many things, and I am quite capable of making wise and sensible judgments. I make mistakes sometimes, but so does everyone. Being adult doesn't make you immune to error, it just makes those errors more important, and gives you more power to cover them up!'
Florence's face did not soften in the least. ' 'I agree. I am every bit as sure as you that I am no child, and I resent profoundly being treated as one, and having my decisions made for me by either my father or my husband, as if I had no will or desire of my own, or as if what they wanted was always the same as what I wanted for myself, or could be relied upon to be in my best interest.'' She swung round and went behind the chair, leaning forward over the back of it, the muslin of her dress straining across her thin body. 'Do you suppose for one second that the law would be as it is if
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those who made it were answerable to us as well, instead of only to men? Do you?'
Charlotte opened her mouth to reply, but Florence cut her off.
'Do you give your mother a gift at Christmas, or on her birthday?'
'What?'
Florence repeated the question with a harsh, derisory impatience in her voice.
'Yes. What has that to do with suffrage, for heaven's sake?'
'Do you know that in law you cannot give anyone a gift, anyone at all, from the day you become betrothed-not married,
'No, I-'
'And that until four years ago even your clothes and effects belonged to your husband? And if you inherited money, jewelry from your mother, anything, it belonged to him also? If you worked at anything and earned money, that also was his, and he could require it be paid directly to him, so you could not even touch it. Did you think you could make a will, so you could leave your belongings to your daughter, or your sister, or a friend, or reward a servant? So you can-so long as your husband approves! And if at any time he disapproves or changes his mind, or others change it for him, then you cannot! Even after you are dead! Did you know that? Or did you imagine that your dresses, your shoes, your handkerchiefs, your hairpins were your own? They are not! Nothing is yours. Certainly not your body!' Her mouth curled in memory of an old pain, one so deep no balm had ever reached it.' 'You cannot refuse your husband, regardless of his treatment of you, or how many others he may have lain with, in love or in lust. You cannot even leave his roof unless he gives you his permission! If you do, he can have the law bring you back and prosecute anyone who gives you shelter-even if it is your own mother!
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'And if he does allow you to leave, your property remains his, as does anything you might earn, and he has no obligation to give you, or your children, should he permit you to take them, a single penny to keep you from starvation or freezing.
'No-don't interrupt me!' Florence Ivory shouted when Charlotte opened her mourn to speak. 'Damn your complacency! Did you imagine you had any say in what should happen to your children? Even your baby still at the breast? Well you don't! They are his, and he may do with them as he pleases-educate them or not, teach them anything he cares to, or nothing, discipline them and care for their health or welfare as he likes. When he makes a will he has the right to dispose
