But always this new phase in life which civilization called convention threw up barrier after barrier. ‘All these soldiers,’ she complained, adding with a sweep of one arm at the major’s dress, ‘all of them in red as you. But I'll never part with your irons. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. \"Yes, I'd love to go.
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