Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting. The tide'll bring him to us fast enough. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. Jack replied in the negative, and it required all his mastery over himself to prevent the satisfaction which this announcement afforded him from being noticed by the jailer. 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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