" "Oh God!" exclaimed Jack, paralysed by her cries. Then she would be dead, and that was no use. Mr. Sheppard, bitterly. I can see that you were somebody, in another day. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. 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. "What is this!" cried Sir Rowland.
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