It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. 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. ” “And I also,” Brendon echoed. " As he said this, in a low and mournful, but firm voice, the tears gathered thickly in Winifred's dark eyelashes. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. " "Jack's mother?" exclaimed the young man. ” He leaned towards her. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. ‘It is pretty. She could not see any relief from this anxiety except repayment, and repayment seemed impossible. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate.
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