John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. 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. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. I have heard of you from my husband. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room.
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