“I tell you that they shall be,” said Mr. Emerson, who had been slowly descending the stairs. “Good afternoon, Mr. Beebe. I tell you they shall be comrades, and George thinks the same.”

“We are to raise ladies to our level?” the clergyman inquired.

“The Garden of Eden,” pursued Mr. Emerson, still descending, “which you place in the past, is really yet to come. We shall enter it when we no longer despise our bodies.”

Mr. Beebe disclaimed placing the Garden of Eden anywhere.

“In this — not in other things — we men are ahead. We despise the body less than women do. But not until we are comrades shall we enter the garden.”