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. Two packets were committed to your charge, which you undertook to deliver,—one to another priest, Sir Rowland's chaplain, at Manchester, the other to Mr. Fas du tout. " "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily. He was tall, slender, and suave. “That’s all very well when one isn’t the material experimented upon,” Ann Veronica had remarked. “I believe it is. She is in the hall now. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter.
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