"Rather a nasty thing for the doctor to do, though," commented Shattuck, then added, hastily, "I mean the way he did it—publicly, in the papers, and all that sort of thing."
"I suppose so," came reluctantly from Honora's lips.
Kennedy smiled. It was very human, after all. Nor could one blame Honora for having scant sympathy with the woman who had caused her so much pain and anguish.
There was silence for several moments, in which I trusted that Shattuck was duly chastened for having expressed any sympathy for Vina, even in a casual way.
"Tell me, Vance," she asked, finally, with just a trace of eagerness showing in her voice in spite of herself. "You never really cared for her—did you?"
Shattuck answered quickly. "Why, you poor foolish little girl—don't you understand yet? It was she—set out to capture me—not I who sought her. Ask anybody. They'll tell you. I begin to believe everybody knows it—knew it long before even I saw it. How Lathrop could have missed it so long is beyond me. Don't you see? It placed me in rather an awkward position. I wanted to warn him—yet how could I? Of course I never cared for her. The fact is that I have had to avoid her, even when she tried to make some business deals through me. Why, only yesterday Lathrop came to see me. It must have been just before he put that advertisement in the papers. I had the very deuce of a time to make him see the case. As luck would have it, though, Kennedy was there. I hope he got an eyeful. Once before he saw me with her. It was when she was trying to sell some stock."
Honora said nothing, though apparently the explanation was just what she wanted to hear and it satisfied her.
I looked over at Craig. If it was true, I felt that it was greatly to the credit of Shattuck, knowing his reputation. But was it true? Was it not what he would have said to Honora, anyway? Might it not be that he was laying the foundations for an alibi in case Kennedy or some one else retailed stories to her?
"Are they still just as insolent up here to you?" he asked, solicitously, after another silence, changing the subject to one more intimate.
"Oh, Vance, it's awful!" she confessed.