I have a great deal for which to thank you."
General Longorio fingered his wineglass and stared into it. "I am
not like other men. Would to God I were, for then I could close my
eyes and--forget. You have your great tragedy--it is old to you;
but mine, dear lady, is just beginning. I can look forward to
nothing except unhappiness." He sighed deeply.
"I'm sorry you are unhappy," Alaire parried. "Surely you have
every pleasant prospect."
"It would seem so. I am young, rich, a hero, I serve my country in
glorious fashion, but what is all that if there is no pretty one
to care? Even the meanest peon has his woman, his heart's
treasure. I would give all I have, I would forego my hope of
heaven and doom myself to eternal tortures, for one smile from a
pair of sweet lips, one look of love. I am a man of iron--yes, an
invincible soldier--and yet I have a heart, and a woman could rule
me."
"You say you have a heart." Alaire studied her vis-avis curiously
as he met her eyes with his mournful gaze. "How is it that I hear
such strange stories about you, general?"
"What stories?"
"Stories--too terrible to mention. I wonder if they can be true.
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