” She wondered how much history she could reinvent before losing track of her own lies. “I am lonely. ’ Melusine’s eyes narrowed and she drew back. But get up behind, Blueskin. 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. Ramage, by a hundred skilful hints had led her to realize that the problem of her own life was inseparably associated with, and indeed only one special case of, the problems of any woman’s life, and that the problem of a woman’s life is love. It will be his interest to do so. Michelle was too polite to put it into words.
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