Nurseries. Kindergartens. Schools. And no
man--except to do rough work, perhaps--ever comes in. The men live in a
world where they can hunt and engineer, invent and mine and manufacture,
sail ships, drink deep and practice the arts, and fight--"
"Yes," I said, "but--"
He stilled me with a gesture.
"I'm coming to that. The homes of the women, Ponderevo, will be set in
the wall of their city; each woman will have her own particular house
and home, furnished after her own heart in her own manner--with a little
balcony on the outside wall. Built into the wall--and a little balcony.
And there she will go and look out, when the mood takes her, and all
round the city there will be a broad road and seats and great shady
trees. And men will stroll up and down there when they feel the need
of feminine company; when, for instance, they want to talk about their
souls or their characters or any of the things that only women will
stand.... The women will lean over and look at the men and smile and
talk to them as they fancy. And each woman will have this; she will have
a little silken ladder she can let down if she chooses--if she wants to
talk closer.
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