“Yes, they are all pinned together.”
Paul sat down and glanced over them. When he had finished their perusal, which did not take long, he tore them up and threw the pieces in the fire, where they were quickly devoured by the flames.
“What have you done?” said the startled lawyer.
“Nothing,” simply said Paul. “I refuse any gift of property from her. On the contrary, you know exactly how my affairs stand. Convey to her, by proper deeds and instruments, the full one-half of my fortune. The cash transfer to her credit at the Chemical Bank.”
“But, sir—” said Salmon.
But he was interrupted by Paul, who said: “No buts, sir. This is my will. Either carry out, with as little delay as possible, my expressed desire, or I will be under the painful necessity of securing the services of another lawyer.”
“I shall do as you desire, and—”
“Remember,” said Paul, as he left the lawyer’s presence, “not a word to her. I must leave you now, to prepare for the ceremony.”
A few more guests had arrived by this time. Mr. Connors came, and at about the same time Olivia Winters, the journalist, put in an appearance in the room, accompanied by Marie.
“A queer wedding,” said Olivia, “and yet it may turn out well.”