‘Parbleu, you are deaf perhaps? It is seen that you are very old, certainly. " "And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben, turning a quid in his mouth. 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. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. He went over her features one by one in his mind. And look, again, at the women one finds letting lodgings. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind.
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