Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. "I am," replied Jonathan, following him, "and so," he added in an undertone, "are your captors. Miss Garvice assumed a quality of neutrality, professed herself almost won over by Ann Veronica’s example, and the Scotchman decided that if women had a distinctive sphere it was, at any rate, an enlarging sphere, and no one who believed in the doctrine of evolution could logically deny the vote to women “ultimately,” however much they might be disposed to doubt the advisability of its immediate concession. ‘What a fate he finds for me. If you like books and music, we'll get along. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames.
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