“Holding them in the cells? On what grounds? Are you out of your mind, man? Where are they?”
The voice came nearer, along with rapidly advancing footsteps, and to my delight Daniel’s face appeared outside my cell. “Molly, what the devil?” he exclaimed. “Can I not leave you alone for two seconds without your needing to be rescued from some predicament?”
He made an impatient gesture to the sergeant, who was now looking subdued. “Go on, let them out.”
“They were disturbing the peace, sir,” the sergeant complained, as he put the key into our door.
“Young ladies? Disturbing the peace? What were they doing? Dancing the Viennese waltz in public?”
“Carrying banners, sir. Votes for women and all that nonsense. A scuffle broke out and we had to arrest them for their own good.”
“I should have thought your boys had enough to do with keeping pickpockets and genuine criminals at bay,” Daniel snapped.
“Only obeying orders, sir,” the sergeant muttered. “The commissioner himself said to pounce at any sign of trouble and we pounced.”
“A little too enthusiastically, it would seem,” Daniel said. “These young ladies come from the Four Hundred, surely you must realize that. When their fathers come to us to complain, your name will be mentioned . . .”
“Only doing my job, sir,” the sergeant mumbled, his large, whiskered face now beet-red.
One by one we came out of our cells.
“And you young ladies ought to thank your lucky stars that I happened to hear of this,” Daniel said, still glaring. “A night in the cells is not an experience you’d wish to repeat. By nightfall you’d have been joined by the least savory women in the city. What on earth were you thinking?”
“We were using our constitutional right to assemble and to protest,” Sid said. “We were marching in the parade, in orderly fashion, when we were set upon.”
“I have to say you brought it upon yourselves, Miss Goldfarb. You know how most men feel about giving women the vote. A holiday parade was neither the time nor the place for such sentiments.”
“Then where do you suggest we make our message known, Captain Sullivan?” Sid demanded. “At the weekly sewing circle?”
“Your behavior certainly has done little to win you support, Miss Goldfarb,” Daniel said, as he ushered us up the stairs. “Men who believed women to be too irresponsible to be involved in public life will now be even more convinced they are right.” He turned to the group of us. “Now, ladies, I suggest that you go home as swiftly as possible and stay there.”
“Thank you, Captain,” the trembly one said. “Thank you for saving us.”
Daniel tipped his hat. “My pleasure, miss.”
“Will you take a cab with us, Molly dear?” Gus asked.
I glanced at Daniel.
“I will be taking Molly home,” he said. “She has been sick and should never have been allowed to undertake something like this in the first place. Let us pray she doesn’t have a relapse and come down with pneumonia. Come, Molly.”
“Oh, but I could easily ride with Sid and Gus,” I said. “I know how busy you are.”
“I said I was driving you home,” he said firmly. “I still have the automobile and can have you home in no time at all. Good day to you, ladies. I hope you will exercise more prudence in your future decisions.” He tipped his hat, then grasped me firmly by the arm and propelled me across the grass to where the automobile was waiting.
I was seething with anger. The moment we were out of earshot of the other women, I exploded. “How dare you drag me away like a naughty child,” I said. “You embarrassed me in front of my friends.”
“I can’t believe you would act so foolishly,” he said, looking equally angry. “Risking your health for this harebrained notion.”
“What is harebrained about women having the right to vote?” I demanded. “Why should half the population have no say in the running of the country?”
“Because the running of the country is best left to those who were raised to do it. Men have always been the leaders, women the nurturers.”
“What about Queen Victoria?” I said. “Queen Elizabeth? Boadicea? Cleopatra? Joan of Arc?”
“All women who behaved like men,” he replied. “How can a woman be a good wife and mother if she is concerned with affairs outside the home?”
“Maybe not every woman wants to be a good wife and mother,” I said. “I’m not sure that I do.”
“Oh, come, Molly. Don’t tell me you’ve been influenced by those pathetic bluestockings. You want to have children someday, don’t you?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” I said at last. “But I also want the freedom to think and act for myself. If we marry, Daniel, you are not going to lay down the law. It is not going to be your household. It will be our household, our family. We will run it jointly or not at all. You will never walk all over me.”