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.