But, not daring to confess his want of comprehension, he made a profound reverence, and retired. And so Misther Wudd lives near the Black Lion, eh?" "He does," replied Thames. 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.
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