’ There was a kind of aching hunger in Gerald’s gaze. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. ” He awoke. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jadecoloured, would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking amidships. ” Her mind drifted into a speculation about her sister. 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 time is it?" inquired Jack.
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