But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. Or become a thorough-going typist and stenographer and secretarial expert. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth. 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. "You show more consideration to the feelings of a hempen widow, than there is any need to show. ’ He added pointedly, ‘Early this morning that were. She pulled her hand away quickly. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed.
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