This time the delayed explosion of her anger came. "How dare you
question me? How dare you pry into my life?"
"You dared to pry into mine, remember," he snapped.
"For a definite and established purpose," she retorted; "and let us
proceed, if you will."
Gard shifted his bulk and grasped the arms of his chair.
"As you please. You deposited with me the sum of twenty-five thousand
dollars. I personally took charge of that account, and invested it for
you. The steps of these transactions I will ask you to follow."
"Is it necessary?"
"It is. Also that now you set before me the--autographs, together with
their reproductions of every kind, on this table, and permit me to
verify the collection by the list supplied by my lawyers."
She frowned, and taking the packet from its resting place, unslipped the
band and spread out its contents.
"They are all there," she said slowly, and there was hurt pride in her
voice.
Without stopping to consult either the memoranda or the letters, he
swept the whole together, and, striding to the fireplace, consigned them
to the flames.
"The plates!" she gasped, rising and following him. "They must be
destroyed completely."
He smiled at her grimly. "I'll take care of that. And now, if you will
come to the table, I will explain your account with my firm. I bought
L.U. & Y. for you at the opening, the day following our compact, feeling
sure we would get at least a five-point rise, and that would be earning
a bit of interest until I could put you in on a good move. I had private
information the following day in Forward Express stock. I sold for you,
and bought F.E. If you have followed that market you will see what
happened--a thirty-point rise. Then I drew out, cashed up and clapped
the whole thing into Union Short. I had to wait three days for that, but
when it came--there, look at the figures for yourself. Your account with
Morley & Gard stands you in one hundred thousand dollars, and it will be
more if you don't disturb the present investment for a few days."
Mrs. Marteen's eyes were wide.
"What are you doing this for?" she said calmly. "That wasn't the
bargain. I'll not touch a penny more."
"Why did I do it? Because I won't have any question of blackmail between
us. Like the good friend that you are, you gave me something which might
otherwise have been to my hurt. On the other hand, I invested your money
for you wisely, honestly, sanely and with all the best of my experience
and knowledge. It's clean money there, Mrs. Marteen, and I'm ready to do
as much again whenever you need it. You say you won't take it--why, it's
yours. You must. I want to be friends. I don't want this thing lying
between us, crossing our thoughts. If I ask you impertinent questions,
which I undoubtedly shall, I want them to have the sanction of good
will. I want you to know that I feel nothing but kindness for
you--nothing but pleasure in your company."
He paused, confounded by the blank wall of her apparent indifference.
Marcus Gard was accustomed to having his friendly offices solicited.
That his overtures should be rebuffed was incredible. Moreover, he had
looked for feminine softening, had expected the moist eye and quivering
lip as a matter of course; it seemed the inevitable answer to that cue.
It was not forthcoming. Again the conviction of some great psychic loss
disturbed him.
"My dear Mr. Gard," the level, colorless voice was saying, "I fear we
are quite beside the subject, are we not? I am not requesting anything.
I am not putting myself under obligations to you; I trust you
understand."
Had an explosion wrecked the building, without a doubt Marcus Gard, the
resourceful and energetic leader of men, would, without an instant's
hesitation, have headed the fire brigade. Before this moral bomb he
remained silent, paralyzed, uncertain of himself and of all the world.
He could not adjust himself to that angle of the situation. Mrs. Marteen
somehow conveyed to his distracted senses that blackmail was a mere
detail of business, and "being under obligations" a heinous crime. At
that rate the number of criminals on his list was legion, and certainly
appeared unconscious of the enormity of their offense. It dawned upon
him that he, the Great Man, was being "put in his place"; that his
highly laudable desire for righteousness was being treated as forward
and rather ridiculous posing. The buccaneer had outpointed him and taken
the wind out of his sails, which now flapped ignominiously. The pause
due to his mental rudderlessness continued till Mrs. Marteen herself
broke the silence.
"You appear to consider my attitude an inexplicable one. It is merely
unexpected. I feel sure that when you have considered the matter you
will see, as I do, that business affairs must be free from any
hint--of--shall we say, favoritisms?"
Gard found his voice, his temper and his curiosity at the same instant.
"No, hang it, I _don't_ see!"
She looked at him with tolerance, as a mother upon an excited child.
"I have specified a certain sum as the price of certain articles. You
accepted my terms. I do not ask you for a bonus. I do not ask you to
take it upon yourself to rehabilitate me in your own estimation. I
cannot accept this cheque, Mr. Gard, however I may appreciate your
generosity." She pushed the yellow paper toward him.
The action angered him. "If," he roared, "you had obtained these by any
mere chance, I might see your position. But according to your own
account you obtained them by elaborate fraud, feeling sure of their
eventual value; and yet you sit up and say you don't care to be
reinstated in my regard--just as if money could do that--you--"
She interrupted him. "Then why this?" and she held out the statement. He
was silent. "I repeat," she said, "I will not be under obligations to
you or to anyone." She rose with finality, picked up the statement and
cheque, crossed to the fire and dropped both the papers on the blazing
logs. "If you will have the kindness to send me the purchase money, plus
the sum I consigned to your keeping--as a blind to others, not to
ourselves--I shall be very much indebted to you."
Gard watched her with varying emotions. "Well," he said slowly, "that
money belongs to you. I made it for you and you're going to have it. In
the meantime, as you may require the 'purchase money,' as you call it,
to settle bills for soda water and gardenias, I'll make you out another
cheque; the remainder will stay with the firm on deposit for
you--whether you wish it or not. This is one time when I'm not to be
dictated to--no, nor blackmailed." He spoke roughly and glanced at her
quickly. Not an eyelash quivered. His voice changed. "I wish I
understood you," he grumbled. "I wish I did. But perhaps that would,
after all, be a great pity. You're an extraordinary woman, Mrs. Marteen.
You've 'got me going,' as the college boys say--but I like you, hanged
if I don't. And I repeat, at the risk of having you sneer at me again, I
meant every word I said, and I still mean it; and I'm sorry you don't
see it that way."
Her smile glorified her face.
"Please don't think I reject your proffered friendship," she said,
extending her hand.
He would have taken it in both of his, but something in her manner
warned him to meet it with the straight, firm grasp of manly assurance.
"_Au revoir, mon ami_." She nodded and was gone.
For several moments he stood by the door that had closed after her. Then
he chuckled, frowned, chuckled again and sat down once more before his
work table.
* * * * *