‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. “All right, Dunster,” he said. " "But I was intoxicated!" "So was the man you just fought in this room. You said that it would bring trouble. We shall have him on his return. 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. You are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a stronger hand than your own has led you thence. There stepped forth a tall brown man. ’ ‘No, but you’ve made up for it since.
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