She broke this promise when she told me that my mother was this Mary, and not Suzanne Valade at all. "Don't speak ill of him behind his back, father," interposed Thames. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. Now that she was his, to make or mar, she presented an extraordinary fascination. Shari’s eyes widened, “You mean it?” “I’m all yours, head to toe. 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.
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