She was looking anxiously at the entrance to the restaurant. 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 am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. “Dear old daddy!” she said, and was amazed to find herself shedding tears. “Love should be enough, John, but it never is.
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