For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. 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. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. The books would be soaked and ruined in the rain anyway through the thin skin of the pack. There are unwritten laws governing human conduct. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort.
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