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. Men had tried that before, but never until now had they been quick enough. The executioner shook his head. "Well, you women are forgiving creatures, I must say," observed Jonathan, sarcastically. ’ Much to Melusine’s chagrin, Gerald folded his arms and leaned back, as if wholly at his ease. Then suddenly with a rush came reality, came “growing up”; a hasty imperative appeal for seriousness, for supreme seriousness. He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers.
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