She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. 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. This time he couldn't get far. "Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. CHAPTER THE NINTH DISCORDS Part 1 One afternoon, soon after Ann Veronica’s great discovery, a telegram came into the laboratory for her. ” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears.
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