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The Price She Paid by David Graham Phillips
page 75 of 465 (16%)
yielded her fingers to Siddall at the leave-taking. He
and her mother covered the silence and ice with hot and
voluble sycophantry. They might have spared themselves
the exertion. To Siddall Mildred was at her
most fascinating when she was thus ``the lady and the
queen.'' The final impression she made upon him was
the most favorable of all.

In the cab Mrs. Presbury talked out of the fullness
of an overflowing heart. ``What a remarkable man
the general is!'' said she. ``You've only to look at
him to realize that you're in the presence of a really
superior person. And what tact he has!--and how
generous he is!--and how beautifully he entertains!
So much dignity--so much simplicity--so much--''

``Fiddlesticks!'' interrupted Presbury. ``Your
daughter isn't a damn fool, Mrs. Presbury.''

Mildred gave a short, dry laugh.

Up flared her mother. ``I mean every word I said!''
cried she. ``If I hadn't admired and appreciated him,
I'd certainly not have acted as I did. _I_ couldn't stoop
to such hypocrisy.''

``Fiddlesticks!'' sneered Presbury. ``Bill Siddall is
a horror. His house is a horror. His dinner was a
horror. These loathsome rich people! They're ruining
the world--as they always have. They're making
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