It would be a great matter, I must own, to bring Jonathan Wild to justice. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. "I don't quite understand the application. They sat in the windowed booth at the restaurant across from each other. 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.
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