Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. He had deliberately saved it for last. She saw how overworked he was. 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. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand.
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