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"I have killed her," exclaimed Jack, dropping the bar,—"by your advice, Thames. It isn’t illusions—for us. She rose from her chair, and began walking up and down the room restlessly. “I rue the day I ever met you, Sebastianus. I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. 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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