Gerald realised Lucy had taken the hint, for she dragged her betrothed towards the door. 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. After passing Tottenham Court Road, very few houses were to be seen on the right hand, opposite Wardour Street it was open country. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. "Yes; he'll suspect nothing. “Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him.
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