He called to the other attendant, who held the torch. He lowered himself onto her and entered her slowly, an inch at a time. ‘You’ll make shadows. " "Impossible, Sir," replied Ireton, greatly alarmed. 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. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. ‘That little kiss cost him his sanctuary, my girl, and don’t you forget it.
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