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. It was still possible the child might be in safety. He greeted the corpulent boy at the register, whose tag read, \"MY NAME IS Jason\" with familiarity.
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