" "That he is," added Blueskin, approvingly. It moved a trifle, stepping back and lifting an arm to rub the sleeve against the glass. Wood struck me a blow which made me a robber. Could you pull over? She asked. ’ ‘Did I so?’ Gerald said, amused. It isn’t illusions—for us. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. 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. “Let us escape,” she said. You didn’t see me fall into a swoon when you cursed just now, did you?’ ‘I’m beginning to doubt if anything less than a sledgehammer would send you into a swoon,’ Gerald retorted.
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