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I want to leave Paris to-day. 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. ‘Let’s check the rest of it and then I suppose we will have to break in. One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient.
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