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She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. “It seems so unfair,” she said, “to take all you offer me and give so little in return. “I cannot keep silence any longer. I knew it. ” She covered her face with her hands. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. There's more than I undertook to bring. 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.
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