F. 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. “If I were to marry now,” she said, “it would be with a sense of humiliation. In the South Seas, money is the eliminated middleman. ‘And I’d like to know what the devil—’ ‘Out of town?’ repeated Melusine, stupefied. William Kneebone, Of me, Sir, you shall never be bone. And if she is not a nun, nor a refugee, and yet is entirely English, I’m hanged if I know what she is.
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