As Berry and I Were Saying Read Online Free Page B

I was but a Justice of the Peace: but I held that insignificant position for nearly thirty years. I don’t think you could say that I was pronouncedly susceptible, and few, I think, would deny that I was a male. But, if there had appeared before me two female advocates – one a damned good-looker, with an engaging address and what I believe is called ‘it’ in a marked degree, and the other a blear-eyed hag, with a full-bottomed face and an offensive air – to adjust the scales of Justice would have been very hard. Ex uno disce omnes . Judges, at present, are males; and unless they’ve tea in their veins, they’re bound to be affected in just the same way. If either of you two beauties put on wigs and gowns and walked into the Court of Appeal, they’d have to hold the Lords Justices down on the Bench.”
    “Thank you, darling,” said Daphne. She turned to me. “Boy, please tell us more of the suffragettes.”
    “So he shall,” said Berry. “But let me subscribe a preface to what he is going to say.
    “In the years immediately preceding the first great war, the period of militant suffragist disturbance was gradually displaced by a period of militant suffragist outrage. All over the country, attempts, frequently wholly successful, were made to destroy by fire buildings of note. Several lovely old churches were burned to the ground. But churches were easy money, for the house of God cares for itself by night. A bomb was placed and exploded in Westminster Abbey, damaging the Coronation Chair. The greens of well-known golf-courses were ravaged beyond repair. One summer evening half the windows of Old Bond Street were smashed to smithereens, to the great provocation of their owners and of all who passed that way. His Majesty’s mails were burned, to the loss and inconvenience of His subjects, high and low. The running of The Derby was interfered with and at Tattenham Corner the King’s horse was brought down. As a result of this vulgar and intolerable behaviour, the tide of the public temper was running high, and, had a plebiscite been taken in 1913, there can be no shadow of doubt that the voting against Women’s Suffrage would have been at least fifty to one. Then, in the twinkling of an eye, came the first great war. And throughout that war the women of England pulled far more than their weight. With the result that, when the war was over and the electors were asked whether women should have the vote, most people felt they deserved it – and said as much. But the British memory is notoriously short. And so, in the fullness of time, it came about that the women who inspired and directed conduct so monstrous as to kill their cause, are now most honourably mentioned as creditors to whom all women owe their right to vote.”
    “That’s perfectly true,” said I. “But for the war, the movement would have been smashed. The British Public would have smashed it, for they would have taken the law into their own hands. Take that famous Derby alone. The King’s horse was lying fifth and couldn’t, I think, have won. But if Craganour, the favourite, had fallen, the anger of England would have known no bounds. I almost wish he had, for he only won to be disqualified.”
    “In favour of Aboyeur,” said Berry. “Give me strength.”
    “One is forced to assume,” said I, “that the Stewards were temporarily insane.”
    “An unfortunate moment for such a blinding attack.”
    “I agree, but there you are. And it’s all over now.”
    “Don’t run out,” said Daphne. “You were going to speak of the suffragettes.”
    “As you will,” said I.
    “In the autumn of 1908 I became a solicitor’s pupil: my tutor was the Senior Partner of the Solicitors to the Commissioner of Police. At the end of one year I left, to be called to the Bar. H G Muskett had never had a pupil before and, being a stern man, rather naturally regarded me with grave suspicion. This, I contrived to allay, and we soon became good friends and