numerable
angry voices as the wind cut through them, the bitter wind that rises
before rain. My mood shivered under the loneliness that marks the end of
all perfect things.

Afterwards we walked up Villiers Street to the Strand Station, and
witnessed a little longer the riot of pretended joy. Now, the fun had
grown more boisterous, or so it appeared to me in contrast with the
quiet we had left. A seething mass--women and girls and soldiers linked
arms in arms charged down the street, blocking the station entrances,
shouting, beating rattles and tins for drums, making the most deafening
noise. Must we go on past or through them all? Yes, and it was for me a
necessary lesson, perhaps, for trying to snatch too much for myself by
getting away--and forgetting. I had wanted to shirk, now I was forced
back to attention.

How clearly I recall that crowd! It took much time to get our train,
and, as we waited, almost unconsciously I began to take mental notes of
what I saw. Soon my interest was fastened. I observed individuals with
quickened attention from the very sharpness of my disillusionment.
Incidents burnt themselves into my memory, not in themselves of great
importance, but surely significant. I was being dragged back face to
face with many questions difficult to solve. What impressed me sharply
was the unhappy faces of almost all those wildly excited girls. To my
fancy each one was hiding from herself, and hiding also from everyone
else. One girl, in particular, I remember, a lank figure, brightly
dressed and her head adorned by a wreathed Union Jack, whirling lean
arms in an ecstasy of irritability, her shrill voice mounting from
scream note to scream note. A sickness of soul cried from her restless
over-taxed body. She was but one unit of a whole rowdy company. Even
this night was used by them to grab at something to fool men--to smother
God in their hearts. Just a play, a pretense, yes, a pretense of power,
especially that; they had no thought beyond excitement, and that to me
seemed only the first step. I could not believe that the new freedom,
the new England would be made by such women. Their make-believe
merriment, all this riotous celebrating of the world's stupendous
Victory--what, after all, was it? And for me the desolate answer
"Waste!" rang out from the unceasing noise.

"Surely this squandering of Woman's gift, this failure of herself must
cease now that peace has come!" The cry broke wordless from me. I