Once upon a time she and Roddy had descended thence by the drain-pipe. Surely it was a dream. 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. John spent the first weeks of summer backpacking in Europe, and she heard occasional news from Michelle of his whereabouts. “I’ll be here at one in the morning.
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