The meeting got on my nerves, somehow. It
was the singing, I suppose: you know I love singing a good swinging
hymn; and I felt it was ridiculous to go home in the bus after we had
been singing so wonderfully about climbing up the golden stairs to
heaven. I wanted more music--more happiness--more life. I wanted
some comrade who felt as I did. I felt exalted: it seemed mean to be
afraid of anything: after all, what could anyone do to me against my
will? I suppose I was a little mad: at all events, I got out of the
bus at Piccadilly Circus, because there was a lot of light and
excitement there. I walked to Leicester Square; and went into a great
theatre.
MRS KNOX. [horrified] A theatre!
MARGARET. Yes. Lots of other women were going in alone. I had to
pay five shillings.
MRS KNOX. [aghast] Five shillings!
MARGARET. [apologetically] It was a lot. It was very stuffy; and
I didnt like the people much, because they didnt seem to be enjoying
themselves; but the stage was splendid and the music lovely. I saw
that Frenchman, Monsieur Duvallet, standing against a barrier, smoking
a cigarette. He seemed quite happy; and he was nice and sailorlike.
I went and stood beside him, hoping he would speak to me.
MRS KNOX. [gasps] Margaret!
MARGARET. [continuing] He did, just as if he had known me for
years. We got on together like old friends. He asked me would I have
some champagne; and I said it would cost too much, but that I would
give anything for a dance.
Pages:
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58