He walked with bent head. Gerald, intent on his trail, ignored it. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. “There’s no delusions, so far as I know,” said Ann Veronica. He suspected a trap. 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. “I know you very well by sight, Sir John. \" Michelle laughed. ” “It was Cheveney!” he said slowly. ’ Gerald suppressed a grin.
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