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." The man hesitated, as though stunned. "After your announcement to the world, and all that has passed between us, would you humiliate me by the withdrawal of your gift?" She lifted her beautiful brows. "Humiliate you? Surely I have honoured you with the richest gift woman can bestow on man: myself. The ownership of property can have no meaning after this. I claim my rights as your equal. Your eloquence and genius give you power. This money is scarcely its equivalent. You have your Temple, and I still have my fortune. Its investment in this building has enhanced its value. What more can you ask?" "The fulfilment of your word of honour to the cause of truth," he firmly answered. She smiled. "Nonsense! You were my cause, my truth--the god I worshiped. I desired you. Now at closer range the aureole has slightly faded, though you are as handsome as ever, Frank, dear. What is money between us? We are equals. I will take the worry of financial details off your shoulders and leave you free for your inspiring work." Gordon's eyes grew soft; he went over to the lounge on which she was resting, sat down and slipped his arm about her. The full lips smiled with conscious cruelty. He bent and kissed her passionately. "You are my priceless treasure, my dear. I am honoured in your beauty and love. Money is nothing to me, so long as you are mine." She drew his head down and kissed him in a sudden burst of intensity. "You know I love you, Frank!" "And we must not quarrel," he said, wistfully, slipping to his knees with one arm still encircling her waist. "You and I have gone through too much for harsh words or thoughts to ever shadow our life. But you must give me more of your time, and other men less. A growing uneasiness and the loss of the sense of finality in life are robbing me of my capacity for thought and work." "Not so bad as that surely," she cried, with teasing laughter. "You're not afraid of losing me?" "No; but you will promise?" he asked, tenderly. She placed one of her arms about his neck, a soft warm hand under his chin, and, still laughing, slowly kissed him and murmured: "I'll do just what I please, and you may do the same." CHAPTER XXV THE IRONY OF FATE