He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. Why not kill her here, and leave silently, the way he must have come? Could it be that he had not the intention to kill her? En tout cas, it gave her a chance. 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. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. “Ugh!” she said. He had but to give his orders. " He had now gained the high road. Luckily I’m not.
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