It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. 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. Aware that he should incur the thief-taker's bitterest animosity by what he had done, the watchman, whose wrath against Quilt Arnold had evaporated during the walk, thought it more prudent not to hazard a meeting with his master, till the storm had, in some measure, blown over. ” “Please don’t let him know I’m here yet. But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' camp. “Before this there was a sort of restraint—a make-believe. But I shan’t try to stop you. Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. " "So that is what separated us! Oh, Hoddy, you have wasted so many wonderful days! Why didn't you tell me?" "I couldn't!" He made as though to draw away, but her arms became hoops of steel.
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