. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. Give me that precious charge," he added, snatching the bundle from Wood. 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. They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food. “I will send you a copy,” Mr.
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