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. There's not his peer among the peerage. There must be something, one feels, in ideas that achieve persistently a successful resurrection. Another instance was that of Toby Tanner—" "No more of this," interrupted Trenchard; "where is the boy?" "Not far hence," replied Wild. "What good would it do you to destroy me? For I have courage to kill myself. “I don’t see,” gasped Ann Veronica, “why parents and children. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips.
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