She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. 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. “Look round the table,” she said. ‘You do not think it is enough English. They buried him in Willesden churchyard after the robbery. “Mid-thirties. ” She lifted steadfast eyes to him.
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