Lucy sat beside him. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. 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. He glanced out of the window, looked back at the major and grasped the handle of the door. “I don’t see why I should take it secondhand. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. 276 He opened the box.
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