ing he would speak to me.

MRS KNOX. [gasps] Margaret!

MARGARET. [continuing] He did, just as if he had known me for years.
We got on together like old friends. He asked me would I have some
champagne; and I said it would cost too much, but that I would give
anything for a dance. I longed to join the people on the stage and dance
with them: one of them was the most beautiful dancer I ever saw. He told
me he had come there to see her, and that when it was over we could go
somewhere where there was dancing. So we went to a place where there was
a band in a gallery and the floor cleared for dancing. Very few people
danced: the women only wanted to shew off their dresses; but we danced
and danced until a lot of them joined in. We got quite reckless; and we
had champagne after all. I never enjoyed anything so much. But at last
it got spoilt by the Oxford and Cambridge students up for the boat race.
They got drunk; and they began to smash things; and the police came in.
Then it was quite horrible. The students fought with the police; and
the police suddenly got quite brutal, and began to throw everybody
downstairs. They attacked the women, who were not doing anything, and
treated them just as roughly as they had treated the students. Duvallet
got indignant and remonstrated with a policeman, who was shoving a woman
though she was going quietly as fast as she could. The policeman flung
the woman through the door and then turned on Duvallet. It was then that
Duvallet swung his leg like a windmill and knocked the policeman down.
And then three policemen rushed at him and carried him out by the arms
and legs face downwards. Two more attacked me and gave me a shove to the
door. That quite maddened me. I just got in one good bang on the mouth
of one of them. All the rest was dreadful. I was rushed through the
streets to the police station. They kicked me with their knees; they
twisted my arms; they taunted and insulted me; they called me vile
names; and I told them what I thought of them, and provoked them to do
their worst. Theres one good thing about being hard hurt: it makes you
sleep. I slept in that filthy cell with all the other drunks sounder
than I should have slept at home. I cant describe how I felt next
morning: it was hideous; but the police were quite jolly; and everybody
said it was a bit of English fun, and talked about last year's boat-race
night when it had been a great deal worse. I was black and blue and sick
an