"I had no right to leave them in the lurch like that," she thought, and her cheeks stung as she recalled her old plans, her old visions.
"And now they've got to go back to their kitchens for the rest of their lives--and told they are not wanted anywhere else--because they are women--" The more she thought about it, the warmer she grew; and the higher her indignation arose, the more remote were her thoughts of Wally--Wally with his greatest adventure that was ever lived--Wally with his sweetest story ever told.

She looked at the hands of the two women below her and saw three wedding rings.
"The roses and lilies didn't last long with them," thought Mary grimly.
"Oh, I'm sure it's all wrong, somehow....

I'm sure there's some way that things could be made happier for women...." She interrupted the quartette, in her voice a note which Wally had never heard before and which made him exchange a glance with Helen.
"Now first of all," she said, "just how badly do you four women need your pay envelopes every week ?" They told her, especially the one who had been crying, and who now started crying again.
"Wait here a minute, please," said Mary, that note in her voice more marked than before.

She arose and went in the house, and Wally guessed that she had gone to telephone the factory.

For a while they couldn't hear her, except when she said "I want to speak to Mr.Burdon Woodward--yes--Mr.Burdon Woodward--" They could faintly hear her talking then, but toward the end her voice came full and clear.
"I want you to set them to work again! They are coming right back! Yes, the four of them! I shall be at the office in the morning.