Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-05-25

mored that they would be signed at any mo
ment. Soames shook his head He was sufh-
GENTLY in two minds, however, not to 60 to
the city on November IL, and was seated I'm
the dining room at the home of his sister,
Winffred, IN Green street, when there came
the sound of maroons which always preiuded
air raid. What had he told them? It would
be quarter Of an hour more before the
raid began. He would put his nose out, and
see what they were up to. The street was
empty but for an old charlady standing with
a buster in her hand On the doorstep OF the
next house. Soames was struck by her face.
It wore smile such poet might have
called ecstatic. She waved her buster at him,
and then-most peculiar-began to wipe her
eyes with it. Sound rolled into the street from
Park Lane-cheering, gusts OF 1t, waves OF
cheering Soames saw other people rushing
out Of houses. One Of them threw his hat down
and danced ON 1t. It couldn't be an air raid
then-no man would do that for an air raid.
Why! Why-of course-h was the armistfce!
At 1asti And very quietly, trembling all over,
Soames muttered; Thank Godw For q moment
he was tempted to hurry down toward Park
Lane whence the sound of cheering came. Then
suddenly, the idea seemed to him vulgar. He
walked back into the house and slammed the
door. Going into the dining room, he sat down
in an armchair which had its back to every
thing. He sat there without movement except
that he breathed as If he had been running.
His lips kept quivering. And then-he never
admitted it to soul-tears ran out of his eyes
and rolled on to his collar. The long, long
thng-it was over! Then suddenly, feeling that
if he didn't take care he would have to change
his collar, he took out his pocket handkerchief.
This confession of his emotion acted like q
charm. The moisture ceased, and he leaned
back with eyes closed. The clamor Of bells and
rejoicing penetrated the closed room, but
Soames sat with his head sunk on his chest,
still quiyering all over. It was as if age-long
repression Of his feelings were taking revenge
in this long, relaxed quivering iinmobility. Out
there, they would be dancing and shouting:
laughing and drinking; praying and weeping.
And Soames sat and quivered.
LIE got up at last and. taking his overcoat
and umbrella, he went out-he didn't
know why, nor whittier earth. He walked
toward Piccadilly. He reached Piccadilly and
found it-full of ferries and omnibuses crowded
with people all cheering and behaving Ike
fools. He crossed 1t, as quickly as possible.
and went down through the Green Park. past
the crowds In front of Buckingham Palace. Fs
walked to the Abbey and the houses OF
Parliament-crowds there-crowds everywhere!
He kept on along the Embankment-he didn't
know why and he didn't know where. From
Blackfriars he moved up citywards and reached
Ludgate Hill. And suddenly he knew where he
was going-St PauIs! There stood the dome
against the November sky, huge above the stir
Of flags and trafic, silent in the din Of cheer
ing and Of bells He walked up the steps and
went in. He hadn't been since the war began,
and his visit now had no connection with
God He went because it was big and old and
empty, and English, and because it reminded
him. He walked up the aisle and stood lonk-
ing at the roof Of the dome Christopher
Wren! Good old English name! Coed eic&
quiet English stones and bones! No more
sudden death, no more bombs no more browne
ing ships, no more poor young devils ta!eerk
from home and killed! Peace! He stood witt&
his hands folded on the handle Of his um<.
brelh and his left knee fiexed as standing
at ease; ON his restrained pale face was q
lock wistfui and sardonic. Rivers of blood and
tears! Why? gieam Of color caught his
eyes, Flags. They couldn't do without the,n
even here. The nagt Terrible thins-subnme
and terribfe-the flag!
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