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. "Ah! now we come to business," returned Jonathan, rubbing his hands, gleefully. She went into premature labor. ” She replied. ‘Because you are a bête, and a pig, and imbecile. “Great. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak. ” “Delusion!” he muttered, glaring at her.
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