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. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. ‘En effet, it is for this that I was enquiring of this man if he has pen and paper. " "Go with him to Tyburn,—never lose sight of him till the noose is tied. He returned her impressive greeting almost mechanically.
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