“This money is not for me. I cannot accept it. I think you had better assure yourself that all is right before going any farther.”
Sudden anger filled her eyes, even in the dimness he could see it glinting in amber points. But her voice, when she spoke, showed no trace of it.
“What more can I do?” she asked. “You have satisfactorily answered every question that I have asked.”
“You might ask one more,” suggested Kenyon, coolly.
“And what is that?”
“My name.”
He could feel her searching his face with those beautiful eyes once more. But there was no doubt in them now; neither was there any abatement of the anger that glowed in them.
“Why should I ask your name?” she asked. “I know it already.”
“I question that,” said Kenyon, confidently.
“It is written upon the check which you hold in your hand.”