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. But, hang it, I know it's good!" "Of course it is!" In the afternoon he began work on another tale. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. ” “Upon my word,” he declared, “you are right. " "It'll not need to be repeated, at all events," rejoined Jonathan, looking with a smile of malignant satisfaction at the body. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances.
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