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 was the social leader of Morningside Park, and in her superficial and euphuistic way an extremely kind and pleasant woman. ‘I know what it means, numbskull! Didn’t spend years in the confounded country without picking up some of their infernal tongue. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them.
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