Nigel, do you know that I have been very jealous?” He avoided the invitation of her eyes. . Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. So far she had not heard the sound of his voice. 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. You are welcome to proclaim yourself ‘Alcide’ if you will. Its shouting now did in some occult manner convey a protest that Mr. . ’ ‘Now you come to mention it, it is stupid,’ Gerald said, struck. So she married him.
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