” “Oh Jesus. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. ” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind. 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.
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