She did not speak to John in the week of school left after the Prom. 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. He then tried the door of Mr. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered. Melusine gave herself a little mental shake. Then Valade—was the man as big a fool as Nicholas?—tried again. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. He'll be brought out at this door, and may probably make some resistance. She romanticized, imagining a life on the High Seas. See? You marry me.
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