"No, I shan't," replied Rachel, saucily. Mr. "Do not steel your heart against him, dear Thames," interposed Winifred. 47 was no more than a sort of railway compartment on the way to that. 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. At the first blow, Mrs. Supposing the wire should break and her head tumble off her shoulders into the street? The whimsey caused another smile to ripple across her lips. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. “If you come a step nearer to me,” she said, “I will smash every glass on this table. . “We can be alone?” She inquired.
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