She was never able to trace the changes her attitude had undergone, from the time when she believed herself to be the pampered Queen of Fortune, the crown of a good man’s love (and secretly, but nobly, worshipping some one else), to the time when she realized she was in fact just a mannequin for her lover’s imagination, and that he cared no more for the realities of her being, for the things she felt and desired, for the passions and dreams that might move her, than a child cares for the sawdust in its doll. I've no doubt he's as honest as either of you. Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. . Sheppard. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. She didn’t know anything more about your mom. After that night she made it a habit. ” “If you can tear yourself away from this delightful place in five minutes,” she answered, “I think I can get rid of the others. He has a grand time.
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