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'—'No fear o' that,' thought I. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from
head to toe. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several
years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her. Like a petulant child he snapped. A
familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her
belly. She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a
sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to
which letters could be sent. In one of these seats, at the end of the aisle
farthest removed from the chancel, the widow took her place, and addressed
herself fervently to her devotions. She became more and more alive, not
so much to a system of ideas as to a big diffused impulse toward change, to a
great discontent with and criticism of life as it is lived, to a clamorous confusion
of ideas for reconstruction—reconstruction of the methods of business, of
economic development, of the rules of property, of the status of children, of the
clothing and feeding and teaching of every one; she developed a quite
exaggerated consciousness of a multitude of people going about the swarming
spaces of London with their minds full, their talk and gestures full, their very
clothing charged with the suggestion of the urgency of this pervasive project of
alteration. ’
‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. "
"Give you the best I have in either case," replied Figg.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 29-06-2024 19:56:34