The island had evidently grown round this lagoon, approached it gradually from the volcanic upheaval—an island of coral and lava. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. 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. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna.
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