Come close to me, and let me hold your hand, dear. I certainly didn’t mean to kiss you. 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. “You stupid bitch. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. This light did not remain stationary, but could be seen at one moment glimmering through the rents in the roof, and at another shining through the cracks in the wall, or the broken panes of the casement. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. ‘Not here. Practically. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back.
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