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“There’s the classes,” said Constance, the well-informed. He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. 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. There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The small predator subconsciously acknowledged the larger one. Then for a time she sat very still. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense.

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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 30-06-2024 18:01:12

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