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. Gerald’s judgement was borne out a moment later. She flew to the door, but returned the next minute, looking deeply disappointed, and bringing the intelligence that it was "only Mrs. "Hist!" cried Rowland, arresting his comrade. "It is the voice of inspiration," said Thames; "and I receive it as a solemn command. “I do not wish to use this. Rhea commanded her. ‘We mean you no harm,’ he said reassuringly. “Nobody understands them, of course, but we all look as though we did.
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