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. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. You are wrong even about that man’s scientific position and his standard of work. There’s no logic in these things. ‘Come, I am concerned merely for your safety, you know.
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