It was but a stone's throw to the office of the _Evening Gazette_. She
caught Greyson just as he was leaving and put the thing before him. His
sister was with him.

He did not answer at first. He was walking to and fro; and, catching his
foot in the waste paper basket, he kicked it savagely out of his way, so
that the contents were scattered over the room.

"Yes, he's right," he said. "It was the Virgin above the altar that
popularized Christianity. Her face has always been woman's fortune. If
she's going to become a fighter, it will have to be her weapon."

He had used almost the same words that Carleton had used.

"I so want them to listen to me," she said. "After all, it's only like
having a very loud voice."

He looked at her and smiled. "Yes," he said, "it's a voice men will
listen to."

Mary Greyson was standing by the fire. She had not spoken hitherto.

"You won't give up 'Clorinda'?" she asked.

Joan had intended to do so, but something in Mary's voice caused her,
against her will, to change her mind.

"Of course not," she answered. "I shall run them both. It will be like
writing Jekyll and Hyde."