An immediate halt took place. He unlocked himself from her embrace. ‘Jarvis Remenham was your mother’s father. Sheppard, who made no resistance, along with him, entered the house, the door of which was instantly shut and barricaded. " "Oh! let me die," groaned the widow. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. Your attitude to me—” He fell into a brown study. 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. ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. Sheppard, distractedly. ‘Then I don’t advise you to visit Remenham House. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. She seemed bursting with the desire to talk, and watching for her opportunity.
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