In the guise of her narrator in A Room of One’s Own (1928), Virginia Woolf wittily ponders the material foundations of the equality of the sexes:
"My aunt, Mary Beton, I must tell you, died by a fall from her horse when she was riding out to take the air in Bombay. The news of my legacy reached me one night about the same time that the act was passed that gave votes to women. A solicitor’s letter fell into the post-box and when I opened it I found that she had left me five hundred pounds a year for ever. Of the two – the vote and the money – the money, I own, seemed infinitely the more important" (Woolf 1945: 38-39).