It seemed difficult to forecast opinion in this matter.
Madge thought that England, in particular, had been too much given up to luxury and pleasure.

There had been too much idleness and empty laughter: Hitchicoo dances and women undressing themselves upon the stage.

Even the working classes seemed to think of nothing else but cinemas and beer.

She dreamed of a United Kingdom purified by suffering, cleansed by tears; its people drawn together by memory of common sacrifice; class antagonism buried in the grave where Duke's son and cook's son would lie side by side: of a new-born Europe rising from the ashes of the old.

With Germany beaten, her lust of war burnt out, her hideous doctrine of Force proved to be false, the world would breathe a freer air.