She began to think persistently of Capes, and it seemed to her now that for some weeks at least she must have been thinking persistently of him unawares. Winifred instantly picked it up. 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. A discreet husband would leave the dispensation of his bounty, where women are concerned, to his wife. Or I should have made love to you long ago. Andrew's church, the bell of which was tolling, was covered with spectators. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold.
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