In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. 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. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. Profligate women are never reclaimed.
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