“Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. I followed you home on the train. “But I have no troubles. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. Its heroes never had daughters, they borrowed other people’s. "Hush!—come hither, and I'll tell you. She felt a storm of emotion surging up within her. Then a ride to London on horseback. ‘So it is that you could not help it. Annabel, I was lying. And this is not France, you understand. “Will he die?” she asked. 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. “We will try and make you happy, my dear, so that you may learn that lovemaking is perhaps a little more than your idea of a woman’s duty.
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