The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. 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. ‘General, we do not know. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. ” To remain, she felt, was to concede everything. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder.
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