“Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed. “What are your objections?” she said. “You should probably wash all of that stuff off of yourself. 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. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. Undraw the curtain, love," she added to Thames, "that I may look at you. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet.
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