\"Thanks. “It has all been a mistake, hasn’t it?” “No more talking,” the doctor interposed. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. She waited for him to leave the room, and turned back to Gerald. Brown broke the silence. " "How?" exclaimed the other. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling. 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.
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