It was as if he had put fifty cents in her hand and she had exercised the thoughts of a thousand dollars.

She saw herself in a score of pathetic situations in which she assumed a tremulous voice and suffering manner.

Her mind delighted itself with scenes of luxury and refinement, situations in which she was the cynosure of all eyes, the arbiter of all fates.

As she rocked to and fro she felt the tensity of woe in abandonment, the magnificence of wrath after deception, the languor of sorrow after defeat.

Thoughts of all the charming women she had seen in plays--every fancy, every illusion which she had concerning the stage--now came back as a returning tide after the ebb.