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. Scissors with which to cut her hair, just in case. You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices. There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate. It is the bottom of the cup, where all the dregs appear to settle. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. “There are policemen—and buses. “I am going to ignore it. I keep on thinking of little details and aspects of your voice, your eyes, the way you walk, the way your hair goes back from the side of your forehead. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent.
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