Lucy pinned her hair off her neck and hoped it would make her to look decidedly older. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. "I did not know … that it was … like that!" She stepped back; but as his hands fell she caught and held them tightly. ’ ‘I do not lie to you now,’ she said, near frantic at the thought of losing him. Just so had his subordinates shown their apprehension. 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. It wasn’t.
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