She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. One of his chair coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher to the sampan in the canal. 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. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. He had almost forced himself upon her one night after a particularly bloody raid of a thatched cottage. But I may yet live to thwart them. \"Do you want a snack?\" \"No thanks.
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