He was not sure that the boy had put himself beyond the pale; merely, the boy's actions pointed that way. That’s where you go wrong. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. Mercifully, John had been sick for two of the three days of Thanksgiving week, giving her reprieve from both his presence and the machinations of Katy Pfister, who was always less active on days when he was not around. It was less will than education. And you, Mademoiselle Melusine, will support this claim. 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.
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