"Because you're the most helpless and defenseless
of all the things He created."

Mary smiled.

"I've managed to take pretty good care of myself
so far."

"And you will--until the thunderbolt falls."

"The thunderbolt?"

"Until you meet your Fate."

"I'll have someone to look after me then."

"We'll hope so anyhow," was the quick retort.

"But can't you see, Jane dear, that we look at life
from such utterly different angles. You glory in your
work. It's your inspiration--the breath you breathe.
I don't believe in women working for money. I don't
believe God ever meant us to work when He made us
women. He made us women for something more wonderful.
I don't see anything good or glorious in the fact that
half the torrent of humanity you see down there pouring
through the street from those factories and offices is
made up of women. They are wage-earners--so much the
worse. They are forcing the scale of wages for men
lower and lower. They are paying for it in weakened