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‘He wanted me also to run away with him, and I wish very much that I had done so. ’ Gerald could not suppress a grin. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. She made me over. But if he's in bed, how the devil is he going with me, supposing I decide to hire him? The mudhook comes up to-morrow night. 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 lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria.
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