She was quite aware that Sibyl for all her
posturings, and avidness for sex admiration, and "acting oriental" as the
phrase went, was entirely devoted to Frank. Such of her married friends as
had severed all but the nominal and public bond with their legal husbands,
she placed in the same category as girls as far as her personal attitude
toward them went.
IV
Therefore not only did she understand these young women driven by the
horrid stimulus of war; women (or girls) heretofore sheltered, virtuous,
romantic, sentimental, now merely filled with the lust of life. They were,
like herself, devoted and meticulous nurses, brave, high-minded, tender;
practically all, if not from the upper, at least from the educated ranks of
life. But they lived under the daily shadow of death. Even when safe from
the shells of the big guns, the murderous aircraft paid them daily visits,
singling out hospitals with diabolical precision. They were in daily
contact with young torn human bodies from which had gone forever the
purpose for which one generation precedes another. Life was horror. Blood
and death and shattered bodies were their daily portion. No matter how
brave, they heard death scream in every shell. The world beyond existed as
a mirage. No wonder they became primeval.
Alexina had met Alice Thorndyke in one of these hospitals and observed her
with some curiosity. But Alice was, to use her own vernacular, the best
little bourgeoise of them all.
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