Lights twinkled freely here and there, though forlornly, now that the war-time restrictions were removed.

It was no glitter of pre-war nights, pit-heads glittering far-off with electricity.

Neither was it the black gulf of the war darkness: instead, this forlorn sporadic twinkling.
Everybody seemed to be out of doors.

The hollow dark countryside re-echoed like a shell with shouts and calls and excited voices.
Restlessness and nervous excitement, nervous hilarity were in the air.

There was a sense of electric surcharge everywhere, frictional, a neurasthenic haste for excitement.
Every moment Aaron Sisson was greeted with Good-night--Good-night, Aaron--Good-night, Mr.Sisson.People carrying parcels, children, women, thronged home on the dark paths.