“I couldn’t help it. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. She looked at him gravely and squinted. She left them and went back to Sebastian, never uttering a word about her visit. 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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