“Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. You get one, you get them all. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. 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. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. Take my advice. And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man. "I've won, after all. Nevertheless there came a residuum of expostulations.
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