e fooled
and cheated us out of it. That's why we women don't care much about the
vote, I suppose, though I never thought of it. We mean to go on striking
until we've got all that you've got."

"But what will become of us?" said Mrs. Brocklehurst. "You wouldn't do
away with all of us! I admit there are many who don't--but some do
sympathize with you, will help you get what you want, help you, perhaps,
to see things more clearly, to go about it less--ruthlessly."

"I've told you what we believe," repeated Janet.

"I'm so glad I came," cried Mrs. Brocklehurst. "It's most interesting! I
never knew what the syndicalists believed. Why, it's like the French
Revolution--only worse. How are you going to get rid of us? cut our heads
off?"

Janet could not refrain from smiling.

"Let you starve, I suppose."

"Really!" said Mrs. Brocklehurst, and appeared to be trying to visualize
the process. She was a true Athenian, she had discovered some new thing,
she valued discoveries more than all else in life, she collected them,
though she never used them save to discuss them with intellectuals at her
dinner parties. "Now you must let me come to Headquarters and get a
glimpse of some of the leaders--of Antonelli, and I'm told there's a
fascinating man named Rowe."

"Rolfe," Janet corrected.

"Rolfe--that's it." She glanced down at the diminutive watch, set with
diamonds, on her wrist, rose and addressed Insall. "Oh dear, I must be
going, I'm to lunch with Nina Carfax at one, and she's promised to tell
me a lot of things. She's writing an article for Craven's Weekly all
about the strike and the suffering and injustice--she says it's been
horribly misrepresented to the public, the mill owners have had it all
their own way. I think what you're doing is splendid, Brooks, only--"
here she gave him an appealing, rather commiserating look--"only I do
wish you would take more interest in--in underlying principles."

Insall smiled.

"It's a question of brains. You have to have brains to be a sociologist,"
he answered, as he held up for her the fur coat. With a gesture of gentle
reproof she slipped into it, and turned to Janet.

"You must let me see more of you, my dear," she said. "I'm at the best
hotel, I can't remember the name, they're all so horrible--but I'll be
here until to-morrow afternoon. I want to find out everything. Come and
call on me. You're quite the most interesting person I've met for a long
time--I don't think you