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. Just this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at least, not just because he was an Englishman. "Constance—or, rather, Mrs. " Her attitude now entirely sisterly, he ceased to be afraid of her; there was never anything in her eyes (so far as he could see) but friendly interest in all he said or did. " "But, my love," still remonstrated Wood, "you know I'm going to look after the boys——" "After Mrs.
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