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Anna was having tea by herself when she entered. “I will tell you when to stop. ’ ‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla. . 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. ‘Yes, but quite my own fault. ’ ‘A pretty tale.
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