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. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald. It seemed at this moment, however, that there was not going to be any “fun”, and Captain Roding said so. " "You might trust me," said Rachel, in an offended tone; "but never mind. She indicated the captain who had retired behind the sofa. She became as The Tigress, a free thing. " "She? My God, the pity of it! She knows nothing of life.
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