Hazel looked up.
"I know what Desire means," she said. "It seemed just so to me, one way. Why oughtn't there to be little homes, done-by-hand homes, for all these little children, instead of—well—machining them all up together?"
And Hazel laughed at her own conceit.
"It's nice; but then—it isn't just the way. If we were all brought up like that we shouldn't know, you see!"
"You wouldn't want to be brought up in a platoon, Hazel?" said Kenneth Kincaid. "No; neither should I."
"I think it was better," said Hazel, "to have my turn of being a little child, all to myself; the little child, I mean, with the rest of the folks bigger. To make much of me, you know. I shouldn't want to have missed that. I shouldn't like to be loved in a platoon."
"Nobody is meant to be," said Miss Craydocke.
"Then why—" began Asenath Scherman, and stopped.
"Why what, dear?"
"Revelations," replied Sin, laconically. "There are loads of people there, all dressed alike, you know; and—well—it's platoony, I think, rather! And down here, such a world-full; and the sky—full of worlds. There doesn't seem to be much notion of one at a time, in the general plan of things."