" "I will try to do so," replied the widow, forcing a smile. like, well, um, you’re kind of looking just a little bit homely lately. “I will be off,” she declared. 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. ‘What can I do, miss?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ cried Melusine. He saw now that it was merely a boy. You do not love your husband, you have married him for a position —to escape from—things which you feared.
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