Chapter 35 - Page 2

done which did not involve frumpish utilitarian costumes,
all caps and aprons. Very short skirts were the most utilitarian of
garments because they were easy to get about in. Smart military little
hats were utilitarian also--and could be worn at any inspiring angle
which would most attract the passing eye. Even before the War, shapely
legs, feet and ankles had begun to play an increasingly interesting part
in the scheme of the Universe--as a result of the brevity of skirts and
the prevalence of cabaret dancing. During the War, as a consequence of
the War Work done in such centres of activity as the slice of a house in
Mayfair, these attractive members were allowed opportunities such as the
world had not before contemplated.

"Skirts must be short when people are doing real work," Feather said.
"And then of course one's shoes and stockings require attention. I'm not
always sure I like leggings however smart they are. Still I often wear
them--as a sort of example."

"Of what?" inquired Coombe who was present

"Oh, well--of what women are willing to do for their country--in time of
war. Wearing unbecoming things--and doing without proper food. These
food restrictions are enough to cause a revolution."

She was specially bitter against the food restrictions. If there was one
thing men back from the Front--particularly officers--were entitled to,
it was unlimited food. The Government ought to attend to it. When a man
came back and you invited him to dinner, a nice patriotic thing it was
to restrict the number of courses and actually deny him savouries and
entrées because they are called luxuries. Who should have luxuries if
not the men who were defending England?

"Of course the Tommies don't need them," she leniently added. "They
never had them and never will. But men who are officers in smart
regiments are starving for them. I consider that my best War Work is
giving as many dinner parties as possible, and paying as little
attention to food restrictions as I can manage by using my wits."

For some time--in certain quarters even from early days--there had been
flowing through many places a current of talk about America. What was
she going to do? Was she going to do anything at all? Would it be
possible for her hugeness, her power, her wealth to remain inert in a
world crisis? Would she be content tacitly to admit the truth of old
accusations of commerciality by securing as her part in the superhuman
conflict the simple and unadorned making of money through the dire
necessities of the world? There was bitterness, there were sneers,
there were vague hopes and scathing injustices born of torment and
racking dread. Some few were