Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. So let me assure you now that we are not accusing you of a crime. Larry was able to retire. ’ ‘Truly?’ Melusine said excitedly. 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. “How could I, when your sister sings now at the ‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every placard in London?” “The likeness between us,” she said, “before I began to disfigure myself with rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. I love everything to-day, and all of you, but I love this, this—this innocence upon us most of all. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone. She held up the lamp. . ’ She closed her mind on the possibility of finding out, and went on, ‘But me, I have been in a war, and I have won. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag.
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