‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. 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. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. ’” She played “If I Were a Rich Man,” adding syrupy trills and flourishes at every phrase. All my personal effects to be left in charge of the nearest American Consulate.
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