” She said. Even if he were an old friend, you couldn't afford to do it. "How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. "Take off the ruffles, Blueskin," rejoined Wild. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. At the Palazzo she had been confined to her own sunny windowed quarters most of the time, but she had the entire run of the inside of the manor. 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. Living’s just material. " This readiness to surrender the coat to her surprised Ruth. Yet she held her tongue. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob.
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