” The young man accepted the letter and the message, and seemed about to close the door when a lady issued from one of the front rooms and intervened. So, instead, they talked of dancing and what it might mean in a human life. I want you to be my wife. 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. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings.
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