Two women entered and sat down at the adjoining table. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. She could run away from him, if she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry out the original adventure. 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. I am no exception. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house.
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