“Well, no,” she answered. He told her something about music, the great world outside. I was a novelty. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. All this was the work of a minute. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. “I wish I could make every woman, every girl, see this as clearly as I see it—just what the Vote means to us. But though she lied about pretty much everything else, she didn’t lie about that.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjEyNS4xNjkgLSAxMy0wNi0yMDI0IDAyOjQ2OjA4IC0gNTM3OTgxMDEz
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