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. Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. She took to listening through closed doors.
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