For a minute or two Kennedy let her give vent to her emotions.
"It cannot be. It cannot be," she sobbed over and over. "He could
not have been there. He could not have done it."
It was a terrible thing to have to disillusion her, but it was
something now that had to be done. Kennedy had not sought to do
so. He had postponed it in the hope of finding some other way. But
now the thing was forced upon him.
"Who told you?" he asked finally.
"I was trying to read, to keep my mind occupied, as you asked me,
when Juanita told me that there was some one in the living room
who wanted to see me--a man. I thought it was either you or Mr.
Jameson. But it was--Professor Norton--"
Kennedy and I exchanged glances. That was the action in revenge to
Lockwood and Whitney which he had contemplated over the telephone.
It was so cruel and harsh that I could have hated him for it, the
more so as I recollected that it was he himself who had cautioned
us against doing the very thing which now he had done in the heat
of passion.
"Oh," she wailed, "he was very kind and considerate about it. He
said he felt that it was his duty to tell me, that he would be
anything, like an older brother, to me; that he could not see me
blinded any longer to what was going on, and everybody knew, but
had not love enough for me to tell.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196