And you had
never a thought about me, or my rights, or the harm you might be doing
to me! And now you've got tired--and you tell me to end it! You tell
me about my 'place!' What am I in the world for, but to afford you
amusement? What are all the working people for but to save you trouble
and keep you beautiful and happy? What are the children for but to
spin clothes for you to wear? And you--what do you do for them, to pay
for their wasted lives, for all their toil and suffering?"
"Samuel Prescott!" cried the outraged girl. "I will not hear another
word of this!"
"Yes, that's just what your father said! And what your cousin said!
And what your clergyman said! And you can send for the butler and have
me put out--but let me tell you that will not be the end of it. We
shall find some way to get at you! The people will not always be your
slaves--they will not always give their lives to keep you in idleness
and luxury! You were born to it--you've had everything in the world
that you wanted, from the first hour of your life. And you think that
will go on forever, that nothing can ever change it! But let me tell
you that it seems different to the people underneath! We are tired of
being robbed and spit upon! And we mean to fight! We mean to fight! We
don't intend to be starved and tormented forever!"
And then in the midst of his wild tirade, Samuel stopped, and stared
with horror in his eyes--realizing that this was Miss Gladys to whom
he was talking! And suddenly a storm of sobs rose in him; and he put
his hands to his face, and burst into tears, and turned and rushed
from the room.
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