Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. 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. Manning told her he loved beauty, and extorted a similar admission from her; he then expatiated upon his own love of beauty.
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