I tried. Nothing else matters. "Never heard of a sing-song girl; never heard of a geisha! Flower of the Lotus: the sing-song girl called her that. She looked at him curiously. 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. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft.
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