"Why not? Because they've had everything their own way, they've exploited
the workers, deceived and oppressed them, taken all the profits." She was
using glibly her newly acquired labour terminology.

"Isn't that a pretty good reason for sympathizing with them?" he
inquired.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I should think it might be difficult to be happy and have done all
that. At any rate, it isn't my notion of happiness. Is it yours?"

For a moment she considered this.

"No--not exactly," she admitted. "But they seem happy," she insisted
vehemently, "they have everything they want and they do exactly as they
please without considering anybody except themselves. What do they care
how many they starve and make miserable? You--you don't know, you can't
know what it is to be driven and used and flung away!"

Almost in tears, she did not notice his puzzled yet sympathetic glance.

"The operatives, the workers create all the wealth, and the capitalists
take it from them, from their wives and children."

"Now I know what you've been doing," he said accusingly. "You've been
studying economics."

Her brow puckered.