6. 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. It saved long voyages and long waits; and the buyers rarely grumbled because the prices were stiff. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. "Long life to the Markis, and we accept his honourable proposal," responded the mob. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. He kissed her at the door.
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