His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. But his grief was of short duration. "I know my life is valuable to you, or you would not spare it. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. 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 houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. ” “I’ve never heard Tristan and Isolde.
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