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. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. "At all events, I've not done with you. But I don’t suppose you can understand. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. “I might go home, I don’t know. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. They had refused. . "The geisha and the sing-song girl are professional entertainers.
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