’ Mrs Sindlesham sighed deeply. "Go to your own room, woman, directly, or I'll make you!" "Make me!" echoed Mrs. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. 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 elusive Jane tapped her on the shoulder after class. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist.
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