I don’t want to Bowdlerize Shakespeare. “I came directly I was disengaged,” Anna answered. Buck up. But it’s as you say. She was too wrapped up in the sheer joy of playing again; it had 201 been intimate, masturbatory. 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 had changed her life dramatically, and she had missed him dreadfully. “None, I thank you,” he answered. She had made her way since then a little further into the heart of life.
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