There came clamor from her listeners. "Cut Angela's wings!" "Why?" "What
for?"
Peachy shook her head. "I don't know yet why, although he tried all
night, to make me understand. He said that he was going to cut them for
the same reason that he cut mine. He said that it was all right for her
to fly now when she was a baby and later when she was a very young girl,
that it was 'girlish' and 'beautiful' and 'lovely' and 'charming' and
'fascinating' and - and - a lot of things. He said that he could not
possibly let her fly when she became a woman, that then it would be
'unwomanly' and 'unlovely' and 'uncharming' and 'unfascinating.' He said
that even if he were weak enough to allow it, her husband never would. I
could not understand his argument. I could not. It was as if we were
talking two languages. Besides, I could scarcely talk, I cried so. I've
cried for hours and hours and hours."
"Sit down, Peachy," Julia advised gently. "Let us all sit down." The
women sank to their couches. But they did not lounge; they continued to
sit rigidly upright. "What are you going to do, Peachy?"
"I don't know. But I'll throw myself into the ocean with Angela in my
arms before I'll consent to have her wings cut. Why, the things he said.
Lulu, he said that Angela might marry Honey-Boy, as they were the
nearest of age. He said that Honey-Boy would certainly cut her wings,
that he, no more than Honey, could endure a wife who flew. He said that
all earth-men were like that. Lulu, would you let your child do - do -
that to my child?"
Lulu's face had changed - almost horribly. Her eyes glittered between
narrowed lids. Her lips had pulled away from each other, baring her
teeth. "You tell Ralph he's mistaken about my son," she ground out.
"That's what I told him," Peachy went on in a breaking voice. "But he
said you wouldn't have anything to do or say about it. He said that
Honey-Boy would be trained in these matters by his father, not by his
mother. I said that you would fight them both. He asked me what chance
you would have against your husband and your son. He - he - he always
spoke as if Honey-Boy were more Honey's child than yours, and as though
Angela were more his child than mine. He said that he had talked this
question over with the other men when Angela's wings first began to
grow. He said that they made up their minds then that her wings must be
cut when she became a woman. I besought him not to do it - I begged, I
entreated, I pleaded. He said that nothing I could say would change him.
I said that you would all stand by me in this, and he asked me what we
five could do against them. He, called us five tottering females. Oh, it
grew dreadful. I shrieked at him, finally. As he left, he said,
'Remember your first day in the Clubhouse, my dear! That's my answer.'"
She turned to Clara. "Clara, you are going to bear a child in the
spring. It may be a girl. Would you let son of mine or any of these
women clip her wings? Will you suffer Peterkin to clip Angela's wings?"