\"Sorry. ’ ‘The horse?’ echoed Melusine. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning. 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. He brightened as she took off her hood. ’ Trodger frowned, and chewed his lip. There is a button loose on that coat under your pillow. They had refused. Horrible details recurred to her. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. ” He shook his head slowly, smiling mysteriously. I never had even a real doll," she added, as she snuggled the flea-bitten head to her heart. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you.
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