A little of this and there came another impulse. The great wings furled close like blades leaping back to scabbard; the flying-girls dropped sheer in a dizzying fall. Half-way to the ground, they stopped simultaneously as if caught by some invisible air plateau. The great feathery fans opened--and this time the men got the whipping whirr of them--spread high, palpitated with color. From this lower level, the girls began to fall again, but gently, like dropping clouds.... They paused an instant and fluttered like a swarm of butterflies undecided where to go.... Then they turned out to sea, streaming through the air in line still, but one behind the other. And for the first time, sound came from them; they threw off peals of girl-laughter that fell like handfuls of diamonds. Their mirth ended in a long, eerie cry. To me, that is wonderful work--one jeweled word after another. And it's sustained through the whole book. But of course, after this first sense of ravishment with her pictures, you touch upon the deeper wonder of Mrs. Gillmore--her ideas. There are enough ideas in _Angel Island_ to equip the women who are fighting for selfhood with armour that is absolutely hole proof. The winged women differ in type as widely as the men; and each man chooses very quickly the type that appeals to him most. The libertine wants the big blond one, whom they've named "Peachy"; the professor likes Chiquita, the very feminine, unintellectual one; Billy, the mere man, falls violently and reverently in love with the radiant Julia, the leader of the group and the one your interest centers in immediately. Julia has a personality: she appears to be "pushed on by some intellectual or artistic impulse, to express by the symbols of her complicated flight some theory, some philosophy of life." She seems always to shine. She is a creator. In short, Julia thinks. The men plan capture and finally accomplish it by a time-honored method: that of arousing the women's curiosity. Then follows a tragic episode when they cut the captives' wings, making flight impossible. Of course, marriage is the next step, and later, children are born on Angel Island--little girl children with wings, and boys without them. But all this time Julia has refused to marry Billy, though she's in love with him. Her only reason is that something tells her to wait. Inevitably the women mourn the loss of their wings; and just as they become reconciled to a second-hand joy in their daughters' flights, Peachy's husband informs her that flying is unwomanly--that woman's place is in the home, not in the air (!)--and that their daughter must be shorn of her wings as soon as she's eighteen.