and Mrs. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne. ’ There was a silence. Wood!—no," replied the turnkey. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel! But this is catastrophe. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. So there is no escape. Stanley coughed and faced toward the house. 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. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. Sheppard, he turned to quit the churchyard. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story.
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