The girl dropped the plank on the grass. Then she looked up and faced the men and boys who stood in a row on the road. She called in a shrill, high voice, like a young cockerel’s:
‘Seventeen to two! The usual male odds! You’ll have to go round by Camber railway bridge, and we’ll be in Folkestone by then. We’ve got bicycles!’ She was half going when she checked and, searching out Tietjens to address, exclaimed: ‘I’m sorry I said that. Because some of you didn’t want to catch us. But some of you did. And you were seventeen to two.’ She addressed Mr Waterhouse:
‘Why don’t you give women the vote?’ she said. ‘You’ll find it will interfere a good deal with your indispensable golf if you don’t. Then what becomes of the nation’s health?’
Mr Waterhouse said:
‘If you’ll come and discuss it quie
