His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. 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. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. If there were any pearls, none came into the light. ‘Say it. "Yale? Why, so am I. “Of course I mean, who was she?” “I believe that her name was Pellissier,” Ennison answered.
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