WHAT THE ATTACKS ON London seemed clearly to unleash was a new sexuality, as Joan Wyndham’s lover, Rupert, had already found. As bombs fell, libidos soared. “No one wanted to be alone,” wrote Virginia Cowles. “You heard respectable young ladies saying to their escorts: ‘I’m not going home unless you promise to spend the night.’ ” One young American woman newly arrived in London marveled at the vibrance of her social life, despite bombs and fire. “Every night next week is booked up already and the weekend hasn’t started,” she wrote, in a letter home. “The only thing people seem scared about
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