Peachy did not wait for Julia to put the question to her.  “As soon as I could move, after they freed us from the Clubhouse, I threw mine into the sea.  I knew I should go mad if I kept them where I could see them every day.  Just to look at them was like a sharp knife going through my heart.  One night, while Ralph was asleep, I crawled out of the house on my hands and knees, dragging them after me.  I crept down to the beach and threw them into the water.  They did not sink — they floated.  I stayed until they drifted out of sight.  The moon was up.  It shone on them.  Oh, the glorious blue of them — and the glitter — the — the — .”  But Peachy could not go on.

“What did you do with yours, Julia?” Lulu asked at last.

“I kept them until last night,” Julia answered.

Among the ship’s stuff was a beautiful carved chest.  It was packed with linen.  Billy said it was some earth-girl’s wedding outfit.  I took everything out of the chest and put my wings in it.  Folded carefully, they just fitted.  I used to brood over them every night before I went to bed.  Oh, they were wonderful in the dark — as if the chest were full of white fire.  Many times I’ve waked up in the middle of the night and gone to look at them.  I don’t know why, but I had to do it.  After a while, it hurt me so much that I made up my mind to lock the chest forever; for I always wept.  I could not help it.”

Julia wept now.  The tears poured down her cheeks.  But she went on.

“After yesterday’s talk, I thought this situation over for a long time.  Then I went to the chest, took out my wings, brought them downstairs and - and — and — .”

“What?” somebody whispered.

“Burned them!” Julia’s deep voice swelled on the word “burned” as though she still felt the scorching agony of that moment.

For a long moment, nobody spoke.

Julia asked their question for them.  “Do you want to know why I did it?” And without waiting, she answered, “Because I wanted to mark in some way the end of my desire to fly.  We must stop wanting to fly, we women.  We must stop wasting our energy brooding over what’s past.  We must stop it at once.  Not only that but — for Angela’s sake and for the sake of all girl-children who will be born on this island — we must learn to walk.”

“Learn to walk!” Peachy repeated.  “Julia, have you gone mad?  We have always held out against this degradation.  We must continue to do so.”  Again came that proud lift of her shoulders, the vibrant stir of wing-stumps.  That would lower us to a level with men.”

“But are we lowering ourselves?” Julia asked.  Are they really on a lower level?  Isn’t the earth as good as the air?”

“It’s better, Julia,” Lulu said unexpectedly.  “The earth’s a fine place.  It’s warm and homelike.  Things grow there.  There’s nothing in the air.”

“There are the stars,” murmured Peachy.

“Yes,” said Julia with a soft tenderness, “but we never reached them.”