She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. 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. "I knew that would bring him to," thought Wild. “You must not think of me as one. . Then she examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by her side. Here her strength completely failed her, and she was compelled to seek some repose. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. ‘I am glad it is you, because you can help me. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. How will we get there, I’d like to know? We’ve no money.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOS4xMzcuNzYgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDAzOjEzOjU2IC0gNDAyNTEyMDY0
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