And in these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked a bitter truth—she was alone. "Why it is astonishing, certainly," remarked Kneebone, "to find any woman constant—especially to a girlish attachment; but such is the case. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man. ” He stood still, looking at her.
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