She could hear the bell tinkle as the horse shook its head. You would want me to be clean, if you gave me a thought, that is. She lived, he noted, very carelessly. “I’ll be hanged if I do. “No doubt about that,” Meddoes continued. The only part of his otherwise-interesting countenance, to which one could decidedly object, was the mouth; a feature that, more than any other, is conceived to betray the animal propensities of the possessor. 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.
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