She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. ‘They lived with him, one after the other, for all the world as his wife. He relayed many details of the location and the beautiful rivers of her home, a subject she never tired of. 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. ” She glared at him balefully. .
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