It was not your fault you failed. " "Hurt her? It would tear her to pieces; God knows she has had enough. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. ” There was genuine interest in her eyes now. 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. ” “It is over for now,” he answered, “but I cannot bear to think that you are subject to this sort of thing.
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