But don’t think your heroic milice will save you. But one must disguise oneself. My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. Lucy was surprised to hear that any party could happen on a week night, but the parents of the house in question were the rich absentee type. God, we suck.
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