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‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. It was a mass of knick-knacks. ‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured. ’ ‘Oh, do they?’ Gerald said, sudden wrath kindling. She had been carrying them, he assumed, but then again the school had some particularly talented kids among the usual ruffians. 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. Take your pick, Mrs. This double buffetting had sharpened her shrewdness and insight.

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