Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. If you fall upon a good pearl, buy it in barter and pay me out of your salary. ‘God loves you, even if your father didn’t. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. 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.
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