All our fraternity are afraid of him; but I laugh at his threats. . . Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. 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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