I thought that he was dead. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. 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. Piercing through every crevice in the clothes, it, in some cases, tore them from the wearer's limbs, or from his grasp. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. "I've known him all my life," replied the other. ” She replied. . "Heaven be praised she knows me at last. .
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