‘Exactly like my father. He picked her up outside her last period Ceramics class. Finally she decided that even for an hotel she must look round, and that meanwhile she would “book” her luggage at Waterloo. He did make her perceive something of the acute, tormenting desire for her that had arisen in him and possessed him. ’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. Miss Ellicot pursed her lips and sat a little more upright. Now, Sir. The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower. 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.
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