She knew that the stairs they had to negotiate to the vestry were extremely narrow, and she had made her plans. She herself had cut the slender tie that had bound them. 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. ‘You would say that already then you love me?’ His glance was a caress and Melusine’s resolve weakened. It would be very good to be Capes’ friend. She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom.
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