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. If you owe your confinement to me, you shall owe your liberation to me, also. At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips.
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