’ Chapter Ten ‘I am come on a mission of some delicacy, ma’am,’ Gerald said calmly to the old lady. It was the gratification of an immense necessity. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. “It means that I have had enough of this slavery,” she declared. They are not bad girls, but the average tourist has that misconception of them. “Go on,” he said. He had been back for two weeks during some pleasant weather in July. 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. “That’s all. ‘We don’t know who she is.
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