“Please have a seat. The summons was instantly answered by a shop-boy. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. 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 felt that Ann Veronica had duped her in that dream, and now that she had come up to London she might as well speak her mind.
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