He called a waiter. 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. “I have had nothing since, and it seems a very long time. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. CHAPTER XVI. She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. I’m a soldier, you see. Now He has taken that out and given it form and beauty—you!" "Wonderful hand!" Ruth seized his right hand and kissed it.
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