Mavis wondered from what peaceful scenes it came, to what untroubled
places it was going. The thought that she was remote from the
stillness for which her heart hungered exasperated her; she closed
the window in order to spare herself being tortured by the longing
which the night air awoke in her being. The atmosphere of the room
was foul when compared with the air she had just breathed; it seemed
to get her by the throat, to be on the point of stifling her. The
next moment she had pinned on her hat, caught up her gloves, and
scurried into the street. Two minutes later she was in Oxford
Street, where she was at once merged into a stream of girls, a
stream almost as wide as the pavement, which was sluggishly moving
in the direction of the Park. This flow was composed of every
variety of girl: tall, stumpy, medium, dark, fair, auburn, with
dispositions as varied as their appearances. Many were aglow with
hope and youthful ardour; others were well over their first fine
frenzy of young blood. There were wise virgins, foolish virgins,
vain girls, clever girls, elderly girls, dull girls, laughing girls,
amorous girls, spiteful girls, girls with the toothache, girls
radiantly happy in the possession of some new, cheap finery: all
wending their way towards the Marble Arch. Most walked in twos and
threes, a few singly; some of these latter were hurrying and darting
amongst the listless walk of the others in their eagerness to keep
appointments with men. Whatever their age, disposition, or
condition, they were all moved by a common desire--to enjoy a
crowded hour of liberty after the toil and fret of the day. As Mavis
moved with the flow of this current, she noticed how it was
constantly swollen by the addition of tributaries, which trickled
from nearly every door in Oxford Street, till at last the stream
overflowed the broad pavement and became so swollen that it seemed
to carry everything before it. Here were gathered girls from nearly