But it would serve. 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. Some of your sex, I mean. The carpenter did not hesitate a moment. So, you see—’ ‘Do not say any more,’ Melusine uttered, flinging away and moving to the fireplace. "What is she saying to me?" Ah Cum shrugged.
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