You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. " "Your father did right," replied Jack, with some bitterness. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. ‘You kissed me that you might make me find it for you instead?’ ‘I had no such intention. 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. I said I’d do anything.
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