. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. No, not one little bit. Her tone was hoarse with passion. ” For a time there seemed no comfort for her even in Capes. 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. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners.
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