The One Woman Part 46

"You will return at seven o'clock," she said, in even tones.

"If you command it," he coolly answered.

"I do. We will have our parting this afternoon. He can remove to his old quarters at the hotel. I will receive you alone, and we will arrange for the divorce and our marriage."

"Promptly at seven," he said, crus.h.i.+ng her hand in his parting grasp.

Gordon ate his dinner in obstinate quiet, now and then looking at his wife's dazzling beauty with fevered yearning in his eyes.

When she rose from the table he said:

"I wish to speak with you in the library, my dear."

"Very well, I'll be down directly," she carelessly replied.

He paced the floor for half an hour, and rang for the maid.

"Tell your mistress I am waiting," he said, abruptly.

The maid did not return, and his anger grew with each lengthening minute.

At the end of an hour, Kate appeared.

He fixed her with a look of angry amazement.

"Well, what is it?" she asked, impatiently.

"Why did you keep your maid and send no answer to me?"

"I was writing a letter. Are you a king? What is it?" she repeated, coldly.

"I wish to say something of the utmost importance both to you and to me, and to another man," he said slowly, in a voice pulsing with a storm of emotion.

The violet eyes danced and laughed in his face.

"So tragic?" she asked, mockingly.

He locked his big hands nervously behind him, stood before the fire, and a scowl settled over his face.

"Yes," he said, with quiet force. "More than you understand, I fear. I have had enough of Mark Overman in this house."

The fair face flushed with excitement. She walked quickly up to him, paused, and slowly pointed to the door.

"Very well. This is my house. You know the way to the hotel, or shall I ring for my maid to show you?"

He stared at her in a stupor, and a sense of sickening terror choked him.

"Kate, are you crazy?" he stammered.

"Never was more myself than in this moment of perfect freedom,"

she replied, defiantly.

His great jaws snapped in silent ferocity, and his hairy hands closed slowly like the claws of a bear. He planted his big feet apart, and the sparks flew from the gray eyes that seemed to crouch now behind his brows.

"What do you mean?" he sullenly asked.

The woman drew back with uncertainty, chilled by the tone of his voice.

"Just what I said," she answered, with returning courage. "This is my house. I am a free woman. I mean to do what I please. Permit me to repeat your own words from the ceremony of Emanc.i.p.ation, and lest I shock you later, announce that I love Mr. Overman--"

"Kate!" he cried, in bitter reproach.

"Yes, and he loves me. I announce to you this unity of our Eves.

For months it has made us one. May I repeat your ceremony? I have memorised it perfectly. 'Human life incarnates G.o.d. Words can add nothing to the sublime fact of the union of two souls. This is the supreme sacrament of human experience. It proclaims its inherent divinity. There is no yesterday or to-day in the harmony and rhythm of two such souls. Love holds all the years that have been and are to be.'"

She paused, smiled, and went on:

"'This is a day of joy--overflowing, unsullied, serene; a day of hope, a day of faith. It is a day of courage and of cheer, and to the world it speaks a gospel of freedom and fellows.h.i.+p. It proclaims the dawn of a higher life for all, the sanct.i.ty and omnipotence of love. It a.s.serts the elemental rights of man,' With joy I announce to you my approaching marriage to your friend and schoolmate, Mark Overman, a man in whose strength I glory, whom I shall delight to call my lord and master."

Trembling from head to foot, the veins on his neck and hands standing out like steel cords, Gordon said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper:

"Kate, darling, this is a cruel joke! You are teasing me."

Again she laughed, sat down lazily, and threw her arms behind her head.

"I never was more serious in my life," she quietly replied.

He hesitated a moment, his eyes devouring her beauty, stepped quickly to her side, knelt and took her hand.

She s.n.a.t.c.hed it roughly, pushed him from her, and cried angrily:

"Don't touch me!"

He attempted to take her hand and place his arm about her.

She sprang up, repulsing him with rage.

"It is all over between us. You are not my husband. I love another."

He arose, walked back to the fireplace and leaned his elbow on the mantel. A wave of agony and blind rage swept him. And then the memory of the hour he spent in such a scene with Ruth caught him by the throat. He could feel the soft touch of her tapering fingers on his big foot as she lay prostrate on the floor before him.

He turned with a s.h.i.+ver toward Kate, who was still gazing at him with insolent languor.

Again his eyes swept the lines of her superb form with the wild thirst for possession that means murder. Two bright red spots appeared on his cheeks.

With slow vehemence he said:

"And do you think the man lives who will dare to take you from me?"