“I utterly refuse to tell you!” Cassandra replied, standing up straight, clasping her hands in front of her, and facing him. Her mockery was delicious to him. He had not even for a second the fear that she had been laughing at him. She was laughing because life was so adorable, so enchanting.
“Ah, but you’re cruel to make me feel the barbarity of my sex,” he replied, drawing his feet together and pressing his finger-tips upon an imaginary opera-hat or malacca cane. “We’ve been discussing all sorts of dull things, and now I shall never know what I want to know more than anything in the world.”
“You don’t deceive us for a minute!” she cried. “Not for a second! We both know that you've been enjoying yourself immensely. Hasn’t he, Katharine?”
“No,” she replied, “I think he’s speaking the truth. He doesn’t care much for politics.”
Her words, though spoken simply, produced a curious change in the light, sparkling atmosphere. William at once lost his look of animation and said seriously:
“I detest politics.”
“I don’t think any man has the right to say that,” said Cassandra, almost severely.
“I agree. I mean that I detest politicians,” he corrected himself quickly.
“You see, I believe Cassandra is what they call a Feminist,” Katharine went on. “Or rather, she was a Feminist six months ago, but it’s no good supposing that she is now what she was then. That is one of her greatest charms in my eyes. One never can tell.” She smiled at her as an elder sister might smile.
“Katharine, you make one feel so horribly small!” Cassandra exclaimed.
“No, no, that’s not what she means,” Rodney interposed. “I quite agree that women have an immense
