in the world. For a time she deceives herself, Felix. Then the idol
topples from the pedestal and is broken, and she sees that it is all
clay, Felix--clay through and through--and her heart breaks with it."
Kennaston bowed his head. "It is true," said he; "that is the love of
women."
"To a man," she went on, dully, "it means to take some woman--the
nearest woman who isn't actually deformed--and to make pretty speeches
to her and to make her love him. And after a while--" Kathleen
shrugged her shoulders drearily. "Why, after a while," said she, "he
grows tired and looks for some other woman."