Almost, I exclaimed also. Vina Lathrop seemed to be a changed woman.
"Why have you followed me here?" she demanded. "Did he send you—or was it that woman?"
"Neither," returned Kennedy. "It's not so easy to hide away in New York."
She did not move from the door, nor did she invite us in. Still, I could see that she was there alone, that the "friends" whom Lathrop had hinted at were either mythical or that she had not gone to them.
"I thought that perhaps you might like to tell us what the real reason for the break was," hinted Kennedy. "Of course, Mrs. Lathrop, there's no use for me to beat about the bush. You know and we know just what the world is saying. If I might be of any assistance to you—putting things straight, you know—"
He paused, endeavoring to see whether she showed any disposition to talk.
For a moment she was silent, biting her lips.
"I never want to speak to him again," she burst out, passionately, at length. "You will have to see Doctor Lathrop about that—at present," she added, sullenly.
"Does Mr. Shattuck know where you are?"
"I suppose every one will know—now," she cried, a look almost of alarm crossing her now pale face. "Really—I have nothing to say. You must see my—my lawyer."