“I don’t see,” gasped Ann Veronica, “why parents and children. 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. Perhaps it was loneliness. “Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, and stared over her shoulder out of the window. A woman may choose any one for her lover, but for her friend she makes no mistake. Imperceptibly almost Ann Veronica began to acquire the new attitude, even while her mind still resisted the felted ideas that went with it. “But your hair,” he gasped.
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