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Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. She seemed to have no idea whatever of the emotional states that were becoming to her age and position. This mitigated her remorse enormously. "Ah, I see it all!" he cried, with a quick glance. 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. . He bent to her hand, and she slipped off the ring and gave it to him to examine. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness.
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