I just wanted a breath of air. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. Let me walk you to the door. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. Slowly she released the hammer on the pistol, uncocking it, and Gerald became conscious that he had been holding his breath. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. "This must be prevented," he added to himself. 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. "Yes; I know I look it," said O'Higgins, amiably. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella.
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