Spurlock bent his head to the rail. " The doctor gave Spurlock's hand a friendly pressure. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. No, not one little bit. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair.
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