There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. 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 could have kissed Cathy. \"I don't eat lunch.
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