egotism. If they assist us they shall have their share. But why should
I fight for the working man if the working man won't fight for
me? Moreover, that is not the question at present. Ten years of
revolutionary dictatorship will be necessary to accustom a nation like
France to the fitting enjoyment of liberty."

"All the more so as the working man is not ripe for it, and requires to
be directed," said Clemence bluntly.

She but seldom spoke. This tall, serious looking girl, alone among
so many men, listened to all the political chatter with a learnedly
critical air. She leaned back against the partition, and every now and
then sipped her grog whilst gazing at the speakers with frowning
brows or inflated nostrils, thus silently signifying her approval or
disapproval, and making it quite clear that she held decided opinions
upon the most complicated matters. At times she would roll a cigarette,
and puff slender whiffs of smoke from the corners of her mouth, whilst
lending increased attention to what was being debated. It was as though
she were presiding over the discussion, and would award the prize to
the victor when it was finished. She certainly considered that it became
her, as a woman, to display some reserve in her opinions, and to remain
calm whilst the men grew more and more excited. Now and then, however,
in the heat of the debate, she would let a word or a phrase escape her
and "clench the matter" even for Charvet himself, as Gavard said. In her
heart she believed herself the superior of all these fellows. The only
one of them for whom she felt any respect was Robine, and she would
thoughtfully contemplate his silent bearing.

Neither Florent nor any of the others paid any special attention to
Clemence. They treated her just as though she were a man, shaking hands