“Too much sensibility and too cold a heart. “I have the right of the man who loves you,” he declared. ‘Again?’ Another simple parry. ’ A giggle answered him. 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. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. You seemed to me to be slipping and slipping, and your face was white.
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