We heard cheering in the distance, it was the arrival of Mr. Lloyd George at the theatre, he having driven by another way. My companion began to think that our chance was over until the evening. A feeling came over me that I could not wait any longer, and that somehow or other I must throw my stone. As it would anyhow be but symbolical, it seemed to me one could find an occasion as well here as elsewhere. One thing, however, I was determined upon--it must be more zealously done, more deliberate in its character than the stone-throwing at ordinary windows, which had been done lately. I was determined that when they had me in court my act should inevitably be worse than that of other women. At this moment there was a hurry in the crowd, the police were making a clearing and opening the carriage entrance for a motor-car. We found ourselves on the very edge of the crowd. As the motor appeared, I whispered to Miss Davison: “Is this any good?” “Not the least in the world,” was her reply, “just one of the motors coming back.” I knew this, of course, but the instinct was too much for me. To throw a stone against the car as it ran along the side was dangerous, as there were two men in the front. I stepped out into the road, stood straight in front of the car, shouted out “How can you, who say you back the women’s cause, stay on in a Government which refuses them the vote, and is persecuting them for asking it,” and threw a stone at the car, but very low down. I thought I had thrown it too low, so that it would not hit the car. I was going on, in the space of time which seemed infinitely long, to tell the car to turn back and get their answer from Mr. Lloyd George, then call to the people to come through the gap and hear his answer. I had time to think out all this. Miss Davison came to my side, and I saw someone take hold of her before she could throw her stone. Then two plain-clothes detectives caught hold of me, but what was my intense surprise, without any violence whatever. They simply led me back through the crowd which surged around on every side. I had thought there were no actual friends where we stood, but I at once saw one or two ready to come and help me if I wanted it. So I was still and said not a word. My part was finished, and I saw that anything said might easily cause a tremendous disturbance at those close quarters. Miss Davison was arrested at the same time, though she had done nothing, and we were led away together. It was a business getting through the crowd. When we had left the Haymarket the crush was very much less, and the two detectives in plain clothes who were responsible for me walked on either side without touching me. This went rather strangely with the newspaper contention that I was “very excitable.” Another incident which got put into the papers was, that when we were going down a main street, two tramcars, going different ways, were about to meet. This pressed the crowd that followed us and pushed us all together. We were walking, of course, in the roadway. A little girl with a baby in a perambulator and a small boy on foot had got on to the island and were wishing to pass to the pavement, being afraid of the two trams. I realised that I was the policeman of that show. I stopped and just held out my hand to the detective on my right. We let the baby and its leaders pass, then we moved on.