At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. He suckled at her shoulder blade as he slid her panties down. 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. I’ll go after them and kill him.
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