PEARL September 1912
“I think we should read this one next,” I said to Ginevra as we sank into the cushions of my sofa and our children played on the floor at our feet. We all huddled close to the fire. Though the end of September could be like a summer day here in Newport, that day a drenching rain washed all its warmth away.
“What book is that?” Ginevra asked, arriving with armfuls of newspapers.
It had become the way of us since we learned the truth of our legal standing as married women – since we learned we had none – to read and discuss anything and everything we could find on the suffrage movement, on what was being done to change our non-existent status. Whether at one of our homes or beneath our trees, hours would pass as we immersed ourselves, educated ourselves as we should h
