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. " "That's frank enough," the doctor admitted astonishedly. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. ” As Lucy got up to fetch Michelle a box of tissue, her mind spun wildly. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme.
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