elf in the way of
getting any possible benefits from the rich alliance. But though she
practically knew what was going on in his mind, she could not prevent
herself from softening toward him.

Now followed a succession of dinners, of theater- and opera-goings, of
week-ends at the general's new country palace in the fashionable region
of Long Island. All these festivities were of the same formal and
tedious character. At all the general was the central sun with the
others dim and draggled satellites, hardly more important than the
outer rim of satellite servants. He did most of the talking; he was
the sole topic of conversation; for when he was not talking about
himself he wished to be hearing about himself. If Mildred had not been
seeing more and more plainly that other and real personality of his,
her contempt for him and for herself would have grown beyond control.
But, with him or away from him, at every instant there was the sense of
that other real William Siddall--a shadowy menace full of terror. She
dreamed of it--was startled from sleep by visions of a monstrous and
mighty distortion of the little general's grotesque exterior. "I shall
marry him if I can," she said to her self. "But--can I?" And she
feared and hoped that she could not, that courage would fail her, or
would come to her rescue, whichever it was, and that she would refuse
him. Aside from the sense of her body that cannot but be with any
woman who is beautiful, she had never theretofore been especially
physical in thought. That side of life had remained vague, as she had
never indulged in or even been strongly tempted with the things that
rouse it from its virginal sleep. But now she thought only of her body,
because that it was, and that alone, that had drawn this prospective
purchaser, and his eyes never let her forget it. She fell into the
habit of looking at herself in the glass--at her face, at her
shoulders, at her whole person, not in vanity but in a kind of wonder
or aversion. And in the visions, both the waking and the sleeping, she
reached the climax of horror when the monster touched her--with clammy,
creepy fingers, with munching lips, with the sharp ends of the mustache
or imperial.

Said Mrs. Presbury to her husband, "I'm afraid the general will be
irritated by Mildred's unresponsiveness."

"Don't worry," replied Presbury. "He's so crazy about himself that he
imagines the whole world is in the same state."

"Isn't it