\" Michelle said dejectedly. 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 when Manning was not about the thing seemed simple enough. He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. "Within the last few minutes, all my guilty life has passed before me. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. She moved forward almost indiscernibly, a millimeter. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. “Great.
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