"I know," she went on rapidly, leading him to a lounge by the fire.

"You saw the jealousy in Frank's big baby face and you stayed away--now, honestly!"

He pulled nervously at his moustache and his eye twinkled.

"That's about the size of it."

"Well, I'm not a child and you are not. We are both full grown.

I am thirty-one years old. I am not Frank Gordon's slave, nor his property. I am a free woman by his own words. And I am going to be free."

Overman glanced at the door.

"Oh! You needn't try to run," she laughed. "I've got you to-day.

You can't get away, and I'm going to tell you something. Can you guess what it is?"

The banker began to tremble.

Kate paused, leaned back in the easy chair she had drawn close in front of him, placed both of her dazzling arms behind her head, burying them in the ma.s.s of auburn hair, a picture of lazy tenderness and dreamy languor.

"Can't you guess?" she repeated.

"I'm not so bold as to dare," he answered, gravely.

"I will dare," she said, eagerly leaning forward and bending so close he caught the perfume of her hair.

The blood rushed in surging tumult to his face.

"When I found myself caught in that wreck," she began in slow, mellow tones, "it flashed over me that I had been leading a sham life. I, who profess freedom, had been living a slave to form. One desire, the most intense, the most pa.s.sionate, the most wilful I had ever known was ungratified. Do you know the one thing I asked when the past and present and future flashed before me in a moment?"

She paused, caught her breath, and gave him a look of pa.s.sionate intensity.

"I only asked for one hour face to face with a great masterful man I know, that I might say the unsaid things, dare, and live the utmost reach of my heart's desire."

Her voice wavered and hesitated. Then, with calm, laughing audacity, she said in sweet, sensuous tones:

"I love you, and you love me--loved me from the first moment you looked into my eyes! Is it not so?"

Overman rose awkwardly, pale as death, his great breast heaving with emotion, and looked again helplessly toward the door.

Kate leaped forward with a laugh, seized his hand, and felt it tremble in her grasp.

"Is it not so?" she repeated, beneath her breath.

He looked down into her shining eyes, sighed, and suddenly swept her to his heart. Her arms circled his ma.s.sive neck and their lips met.

"Kiss me again," she whispered. "Again! Crush me--kill me if you like! I could die in your arms! Tell me that you love me!"

"I've loved you always," he said slowly. "But why did you do this thing? Frank is my best friend. I would have died sooner than betray him."

"Yes, I know," she cried, impetuously; "that's why I told you. I have no scruples. I am free. It is our compact. I'm done with his maudlin sentiment. I have chosen you. You are my master, my king.

I am yours."

"Tragedy to me as it is," he said, with a smile, "it seems too sweet and wonderful to be true, that the most beautiful woman on this earth should love a gnarled brute like me. How is it possible?"

She smoothed his rugged face with her soft hand, drew his head down and kissed tenderly the sightless eye that had caused him so many bitter hours of anguish in life.

The strong man's body for the first time shook with sobs. And the woman soothed him as a child.

"You are my soul's mate," she cried, in a transport of tenderness.

"Frank Gordon is no longer my husband. You are my beloved, my chosen one. I will never recognise him again. We will separate from this hour. I am yours and you are mine."

Overman took her hand and, still trembling, said:

"Do you know what that means?"

"Yes," she answered, eagerly. "I know you will be my lord and master, and I desire it. I am sick of sentimentalism."

"It means exactly that," he said, with emphasis. "Out of this bog of fool's dreams I will lift you forever, my own, the one priceless treasure around which I will draw the circle of life and death."

"Yes, yes, I know," she cried, in a glow of ecstatic feeling.

"I desire it so. I wish you to be my master. Your service will be sweet; your savage strength will be my joy."

And while they sat planning their future life, Gordon's footstep echoed in the hall.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE GROWL OF THE ANIMAL

When Gordon entered the library he glanced uneasily at his wife and she smiled in insolent composure.

Overman rose hastily.

"Sorry the weather was so threatening I couldn't persuade your wife to go to the Temple, Frank."

"Yes, the rain is pouring in torrents and it's getting colder," he answered, rubbing his hands before the fire.

"I'll not stay to dinner; I've an engagement at my club," the banker said, briskly.

The one eye ran from the man to the woman in embarra.s.sment at the threatening silence. Kate walked with him to the door.