But I don’t wish to hear that abomination on her lips again. Most of the tables were for those who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with tablecloths and laid for dinner. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. “For luck. “You will have some tea?” she asked. ‘Word has it that she is English on her father’s side. 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 had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth.
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