The patient was as obstinate as a mule, though claiming that she was doing her best and trying everything in her power to co-operate. She was doing everything in her power to frustrate the physician’s directions, claiming at the same time that she was doing her best to follow scrupulously the doctor’s orders. She claimed she was nice to people when she was nasty and offensive to everybody who in any way happened not to fall in with her whims and caprices. In fact, even those who went out of their way to please her and did everything in attending to her, and helping her in every way day and night, even those she treated with lack of consideration, even positive disdain and contempt. She was the incarnation of demoniacal obsession of psychopathic meanness and egotism. She abused and dominated her husband by her sickness, trouble, fainting and crying spells, headaches, moans and weeping. She made him do everything she pleased. In fact, she tyrannized over her husband, and kept on claiming she loved him. She could not for a moment be without him, and complained that on account of her extreme devotion to him, “her will was broken.” She was a regular termagant, a demon incarnate. She knew how to make a scene and put the blame on her “dear ones.” It was enough for her to suspect what her friends wanted her to do, she was sure out of sheer malice, to act the contrary. She was distrustful, spying on others, sneaky and lying without any scruples; and yet “no one was so mild, so ideal, so kind, so affectionate, so considerate, so calm as she was.” She went around reciting poetry about ideals, health, and happiness. She persuaded herself that she was highly educated, that she was the best business woman, the best critic, appreciative of poetry and of art in general. She was a veritable Nero, an “egomaniac” devoid of all love and human sympathy. She suffered so much, because she was so unusually altruistic. A coyote in her fear, a tigress in her rage, she claimed the gentleness of the dove and the innocence of the babe. Not for a moment could she fix her attention on anything but herself, eating, drinking, sleeping, and feeling. Nothing interested her but herself. She avoided work, however short and easy. She could, however, talk of herself, of her achievements, of her moral, intellectual qualities by the hour and by the day. Even games did not interest her, nothing but herself, and self. This was so evident that one of the attendants noticed this characteristic psychopathic trait, and described her as “egomaniac.” She was the “Great I am.” “The Ego-person is the reflection of the Ego-god.” ... Whenever one spoke of a great man, she was sure to have her opinion of him. She was at any rate superior to him. She could give her opinion on any conceivable subject in literature, economics, and politics.