CHAPTER III. \" He said. Both started. “I mean to go to that dance!” she blubbered. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. “Do you hear!” she said “whatever you are, wherever you are! I will not be slave to the thought of any man, slave to the customs of any time. "The men. Leaning upon a gate he looked down into the valley. 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. The young man looked at her. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant.
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