She was a little paler than when she had come to London, a little paler and a little thinner. Of course, it really signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was travelling alone. 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. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street.
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This video was uploaded to fairlopwaters.info on 01-06-2024 06:02:56
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