Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. 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. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. “Is Lady Lescelles in?” he asked the butler. " "I hear nothing, Sir," laughed Austin. .
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