"Thanks," he said, holding out a thin white hand. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. 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. Will you lend me the money for my ticket to London?” “With all the pleasure in the world,” he answered heartily. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. “Hello?” She asked as she cradled the phone by her ear.
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