It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. 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. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something.
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