Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the doorway. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. I'll put them in your room; then we'll have a look-see. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. 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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