” “I wanted to, John. " Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. ’ ‘You speak it very well,’ Gerald said encouragingly. She shrugged her shoulders. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs.
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