“Am I not your serene-browed Grecian goddess whose untamed eyes of primeval womanhood proclaim the end of slave marriage?”
Gorden winced, scowled and was silent.
“I like the beautiful ceremony you invented. I’ve memorised every word of it,” she said, teasingly.
He sat for several minutes sullenly looking at her with a strange fire in his eyes, now and then moistening his lips as though they burned.
At length he said: “It will be necessary for you to go to his office to-morrow to sign papers in the transfer of the deed of the Temple to me. The lawyers informed me to-day that everything was in readiness for your signature. After this event there will be no business requiring your further attendance at his bank.”
She closed her eyes lazily.
“I am not going to sign any such deed,” came the firm answer.
Gordon turned pale, nervously fumbled at his watch-chain and stammered:
“Kate, you don’t mean this?”
“I do.”