The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. Nigel! You have not forgotten. 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. ’ ‘Good. This is your moment. As you brew so must you drink. It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men. At the same time,” she added, in a suddenly altered tone, “it isn’t anything whatever to do with you, is it?” “Why not?” he answered.
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