Angel Island

Clara's whole aspect had fired. Flame seemed burst from her gray-green

eyes, sparks to shoot to from her tawny head. "I would strike him dead

first."

Peachy turned to Chiquita. The color had poured into Chiquita's face

until her full brown eyes glared from a purple mask. "You, too,

Chiquita. You may bear girl-children. Oh, will you help me?"

"I'll help you," Chiquita said steadily. She added after a pause, "I

cannot believe that they'll dare, though."

"Oh, they'll dare anything," Peachy said bitterly. Earth-men are devils.

What shall we do, Julia? she asked wearily.

Julia had arisen. She stood upright. Curiously, she did not totter. And

despite her shorn pinions, she seemed more than ever to tower like some

Winged Victory of the air. Her face ace glowed with rage. As on that

fateful day at the Clubhouse, it was as though a fire had been built in

an alabaster vase. But as they looked at her, a rush of tears wiped the

flame from her eyes. She sank back again on the couch. She put her hands

over her face and sobbed. "At last," she said strangely. "At last! At

last! At last!"

"What shall we do, Julia?" Peachy asked stonily.

"Rebel!" answered Julia.

"But how?"

"Refuse to let them cut Angela's wings."

"Oh, I would not dare open the subject with Ralph," Peachy said in a

terror-stricken voice. "In the mood he's in, he'd cut her wings

tonight."

"I don't mean to tell him anything about it," Julia replied. "Rebel in

secret. I mean - they overcame us once by strategy. We must beat them

now by superior strategy."

"You don't really mean anything secret, do you, Julia?" Lulu

remonstrated. "That wouldn't be quite fair, would it?"

And curiously enough, Julia answered in the exact words that Honey had

used once. "Anything's fair in love or war - and this is both. We can't

be fair. We can't trust them. We trusted them once. Once is enough for

me."

"But how, Julia?" Peachy asked. Her voice had now a note of

querulousness in it. "How are we going to rebel?"

Julia started to speak. Then she paused. "There's something I must ask

you first. Tell me, all of you, what did you do with your wings when the

men cut them off?"

The rage faded out of the four faces. A strange reticence seemed to blot

out expression. The reticence changed to reminiscence, to a deep

sadness.