“Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. For a time she brooded on the ideals and suggestions of the Socialists, on the vague intimations of an Endowment of Motherhood, of a complete relaxation of that intense individual dependence for women which is woven into the existing social order. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart.
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