" "Ha!" ejaculated Trenchard. “These are for you. 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. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. They were filthy after the burial. Then she took her sister’s hand. " "I hadn't thought of that. "But if you do not find this aunt, what will you do? What can you do to protect yourself against hunger?" "I'll find something. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch.
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