Once or twice she had made friendly
overtures to Ethel, and had always been repulsed. She placed Ethel
in the category of selfish English-snobdom that she had heard and
read about and now, apparently, met face to face. Then came the
vivid experience at night when Ethel laid bare her soul pitilessly
and torrentially for Peg to see. With it came the realisation of the
heart-ache and misery of this outwardly contented and entirely
unemotional young lady. Beneath the veneer of repression and
convention Peg saw the fires of passion blazing in Ethel, and the
cry of revolt and hatred against her environment. But for Peg she
would have thrown away her life on a creature such as Brent because
there was no one near her to understand and to pity and to succour.
Peg shuddered as she thought of the rash act Ethel had been saved
from--blackening her life in the company of that satyr.
How many thousands of girls were there in England today, well-
educated, skilled in the masonry of society--to all outward seeming
perfectly contented, awaiting their final summons to the marriage-
market--the culmination of their brief, inglorious careers. Yet if
one could penetrate beneath the apparent calm, one might find
boiling in THEIR blood and beating in THEIR brains the same revolt
that had driven Ethel to the verge of the Dead Sea of lost hopes and
vain ambitions--the vortex of scandal.
Pages:
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398