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. She wanted to scream, but there was no one to scream for. I'll eat them when we start. " "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. Standing over the pierced Rhea, Lucy bayed, a long cry that was half-scream and half-howl.
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