They are more base then the animals and cannot be suffered to live, do you understand?” She nodded. He will not provide for the daughter. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. Jonathan stepped behind a curtain. There were lines in her face that age had not put there. She glared at him with satisfaction. The vicomte has, he say, enough femmes in his hands. 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 jumped up, and moved impatiently to the door. She admitted her pleasure to Ramage. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream.
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