” “I told them a lie. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. She was not quite clear how she should find it, but she felt she would. Gradually McClintock shifted the burden to Spurlock's shoulders and retired among his books and music rolls. In the hall below she could hear his firm voice giving quick commands to the servants. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself.
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