She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. 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. ’ ‘Comment? But already he has made this visit—in town. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. ‘And so also have I. ‘What is the matter?’ ‘Is there nothing you do not know?’ she asked faintly. ‘That’s why I’m asking. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. It was her figure, her style of dress, her manner of arranging the hair. Lucy propped Michelle against a thick, knobby tree stump.
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