Small wonder she had learned to be self-reliant. “She must,” said Mr. Andrew's Church, his pursuers had gained the bridge, and the attention of such passengers as crowded the streets was attracted towards him by their vociferations. 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. " "Thames," said Sheppard in a low voice, as he threw a vindictive glance at the carpenter, "I shan't forget this. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him.
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