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. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. “We banished his experiments to here in the basement from then on. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat.
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