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. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. There he stands. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. “In any case, I decline to see you alone. She caught her finger in the lock and had to ask him to help pry it out. Of this I'm certain, however, she was much too good for him, and was never meant to be a journeyman carpenter's wife, still less what is she now.
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