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 give you all of my genius, and you say—'Get out!' I am some kind of a dog. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. To win the contest meant you would be chosen to apprentice in magic as a priest under her tutelage. I wonder if he really wants me to go home. You are not with the Kent militia, are you?’ ‘West Kent, yes.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 18-06-2024 09:59:18
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