Читать книгу The storm of London: a social rhapsody онлайн

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Solitary confinement for twelve days had nearly driven Londoners mad; but he now realised that isolation in the midst of a maddening crowd would soon turn them into drivelling idiots. What they had gone through for more than a week had been a conflict between virtue and self-interest; but the future was more fearful, for more than interest was at stake, as self-respect was threatened to sink in this universal levelling. When he thought of all the social solecisms likely to occur in this state of incognito, he shuddered. If it was impossible to know whom to bow to, whom to nod to and whom to snub, however could Society exist? Our exclusive circles owed their existence to those delicate nuances of politeness; and when the sliding scales of courtesy were abolished, Democracy was at hand, for no power on earth could stem the torrent of Anarchism from overpowering defenceless Society.

The first exodus was decidedly a failure, and Lionel felt the galling bitterness of disappointment when, between twelve and one, he entered his house, refusing all the entreaties of his valet to partake of a dainty luncheon. All London was in the same discomfited mood that morning, and the fashionable beauty, reclining on her hard couch, wept bitter tears over her defunct wardrobe and hat-boxes. The company promoter behind his window, looking at the irritating butcher’s boy and callous milkman, grunted audibly, “These are the sort of people we are now to rub against at every turn!”