simply lost all hope. If you can do any good with him, it's more than we can. 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. But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent. He sucked at her neck, biting her hard, leaving red marks that disappeared as soon as he made them. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall.
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