Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. Husbands and wives, young lovers, and mothers with strollers thronged in the streets, all savoring the fine cool weather. ‘If you are not going to visit Charvill today, I’ll escort you back to the convent in Golden Square. The boat in which he rode was not overset. 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. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window.
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