She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. The tension was palpable. "Because you did not wish to hurt me?" "Yes. ’ ‘What?’ Hilary glanced from Gerald to Melusine, and coloured up. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time.
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