Give me your hand. ’ ‘This, monsieur le major, is entirely your own affair,’ said the lady, haughty again. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. She was pleased and a little flattered by his interest and sympathy. Also she made little pussy-like sounds of a reassuring nature. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. Sheppard. All who lived there aspired to be something greater, all who lived there had hope, even the slaves! Oh, Lucia, if you could have seen the Parthenon, or attended the plays at the Athaneum, you would know why I loved it there. His hands came up, his face broke apart. 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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