On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. To disillusion her, forthwith. “If you come a step nearer to me,” she said, “I will smash every glass on this table. "I've done all I can to the portrait here. ” He caught up and went on with a sort of clumsiness: “Let me present you with them and be your voter. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room.
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