For a time I must do journalism and work hard. "Your hesitation convinces me he does," replied the widow. A queer game this: he could not move directly as in an ordinary case of manhunt. And I have no more the pistol. 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. . She walked through the office to the door, aimlessly.
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