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. Morgan the trader did not haggle over the pearls, but gave me at once what he judged a fair price. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. ‘You should be. I should as soon think of trusting a woman. Wood, terrified by the wildness of her looks. Very few survived her trials.
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