I had left Paris. " Sir Rowland made no reply, but angrily quickened his pace. 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'll remember that. ” “Nobody does that,” said Ramage, and kept silence for a moment. And he had good reason before long to congratulate himself on his forbearance. I can now give myself to God utterly; no human emotion will ever be shuttling in between.
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