It is hard to recall that the adventures and histrionics of feminism are age old. William Boot has returned triumphant from Ishmaelia and his employer, Lord Copper, is trying to decide how to reward him.
"Well, then, let us have no more of these petty jealousies. The office is riddled with them. I shall make it my concern to see that Boot is substantially rewarded. What, I wonder, would meet the case . . . " Lord Copper paused undecided. His eye fell on the page of drawings and he covered it with his blotting paper. "Suppose," he said at length, "we gave him another good foreign assignment. There is this all-women expedition to the South Pole - bound to be a story in that. Do you think that would meet the case?"
"Up to a point, Lord Copper."
"Not too lavish?"
"Definitely not."
"I imagine that the expenses of an expedition of that kind will be heavy. Have to charter his own ship - I understand they will have no men on board." He paused dissatisfied. "The trouble is that it is the kind of story that may not break for two years and then we shall have to put Boot's name before the public all over again. We ought to do something now, while the news is still hot. I gave that illiterate fellow Hitchcock a knighthood for less."
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