There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. 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. ’ Obediently, Gerald rose and walked to the other end of the parlour. I said, that day at Surbiton, ‘There’s many good things in life, but there’s only one best, and that’s the wild-haired girl who’s pulling away at that oar. Come up stairs, and take a glass of brandy. “It is too late for visitors,” she remarked.
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