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Detached, it was not impossible that she would be forced to leave the dining room because of invading tears. 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. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess. “No, he wouldn’t come here of all places—just now. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey.
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