She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room. Amidship there was also canvas, and like that over the wheel, drab and dirty. She thought then that she had shaken off the man of the bulging blue eyes forever, but that night she found he followed her into her dreams. 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. Meanwhile, the mob outside had prodigiously increased, and had begun to exhibit some disposition to riot.
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