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 looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. Well, this is OUR thing. “Nobody understands them, of course, but we all look as though we did.
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