"This _is_ my business," he had said curtly, and for once masterfully, and she gave way.

Though Vivie for her own reasons carried no hammer or stone and as one of the principal organizers of the militant movement had been requested by the inner Council of the W.S.P.U.

to keep out of prison as long as possible, she could not help cheering on the boldest and bravest in the mild violence of their protest.

To the angry police she seemed merely an impertinent young man, hardly worth arresting when they could barely master the two hundred and twenty-three arch offenders with glass-breaking weapons in their hands.

So a constable contented himself with marching on her feet with all his weight and thrusting his elbows violently into her breast.
She well-nigh fainted with the pain; in fact would have fallen in the crowd but for the interposition of Adams who carried her out of it to the corner of Parliament Street, where he pounced on one of the many taxis that crawled about the outskirts of the shouting, swaying crowd, sure of a fare from either police or escaping Suffragists.