“I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. Sheppard, fervently. "Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. It is very bad. "I'm not particular about rooms. 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. “I will be off,” she declared. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber.
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