pleased him; it added to his
innate sense of power, and this in itself endeared her to him
inexpressibly.

But as the girl still held out stubbornly, trying to evade the final
word that would force a climax disastrous any way she viewed it,
Inglesby's patience was exhausted. He was determined to make her come
to terms by the word of her own mouth, and he had no doubt that her
final word must be Yes; perhaps a Yes reluctant enough, but
nevertheless one to which he meant to hold her.

To make that final demand more impressive, Hunter was not entrusted
with the interview. Hunter may have been doubtful as to the wisdom of
this, but Inglesby could no longer forego the delight of dealing with
Mary Virginia personally. On the Saturday night, then, Mrs. Eustis
being absent, Mr. Inglesby, manicured, massaged, immaculate, shaven
and shorn, called in person; and not daring to refuse, Mary Virginia
received him, wondering if for her the end of the world had not come.

He made a mistake, for Mary Virginia had her back against the wall,
literally waiting for the Eustis roof to fall. But he could not forego
the pleasure of witnessing her pride lower its crest to him. He did
not relish a go-between, even such a successful one as his secretary.
He had made up his mind that she should have until to-morrow night,
Sunday, to come to a decision--just that long, and not another hour.
He was not getting younger; he wanted to marry, to found a great
establishment as whose mistress Mary Virginia should shine. And she
was making him lose time.

What Inglesby succeeded in doing was to bring her terror to a head,
and to fill her with a sick loathing of him. Under the smooth
protestations, the promises, the threats veiled with hateful and oily
smiles, the man himself was revealed: crude, brutal, dominant,
ruthless, a male animal bull-necked and arrogant, with small eyes,
wide nostrils, cruel moist lips, sensual fat white hands she hated.
And he was so sure of her! Mary Virginia found herself smarting under
that horrible sureness.

Perfectly at his ease, inclined to be familiar and jocose, he looked
insolently about the lovely old room that had never before held such a
suitor for a daughter of that house. Watching her with the complacent
eyes of an accepted lover, assuming odious airs of proprietorship such
as made one wish to throttle him, he was in no hurry to go. It seemed
to her that black and withering years rolled over her head before h