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. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. Her eyes followed him. ” “And who made the arrangements for you, and sent you there?” Courtlaw asked. ’ ‘I have English a little,’ the girl offered, her voice shaking as she essayed a smile and sank into a curtsy. Most of the tables were for those who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with tablecloths and laid for dinner. There was also a curious interview at a big hotel with a middle-aged, white-powdered woman, all covered with jewels and reeking of scent, who wanted a Companion.
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