She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. 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. Take your half loaf with the others.
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