“That can’t be true. And it is impossible for you to know it.”
“It is true,” said Drinkwater. “And to show that I have ways of knowing that may surprise you, the action was held in Rhode Island under a referee appointed by Judge Chough, of the——”
“You know this!” exclaimed Dangerfield, in amazement.
“Don’t worry—no one else will know,” said Drinkwater suavely. “I know, because I made it my business to know.”
“So you have been spying on me all this while,” said Dangerfield, with a sudden contraction of the eyes that brought the brows down into a lowering, menacing line.
“I have been fulfilling my duties,” said Drinkwater coolly enough, though he stopped to puff through his thin, hooked nose; “duties as an attorney retained by the interests of your wife—Mrs. Daniel Garford.”
At this mention of his real name, Dangerfield’s anger, curiously enough, seemed to subside. Indeed, in the succeeding quiet and the mildness of his voice, there was almost a premeditated cunning.
“Well, it is quite evident that you are well-informed,” he said. “You say that the divorce was pronounced this afternoon—may I ask how you should be the one to inform me, instead of my own lawyer?”
“Because I received the news by telephone twenty minutes ago.”
“And you have communicated the news to my—to Mrs. Garford?”