"Yes, I will talk to him--in my room," she interrupted.

I thought that there was just a trace of well-concealed confusion,
as she excused herself.

We rose. Kennedy did not resume his seat immediately. Without a
word or look he completed his work at the typewriter by
abstracting several blank sheets of paper from the desk.

A few moments later Mrs. Maitland returned, calmer.

"In his note," resumed Kennedy, "he spoke of Dr. Ross and--"

"Oh," she cried, "can't you see Dr. Ross about it? Really I--I
oughtn't to be--questioned in this way--not now, so soon after
what I've had to go through."

It seemed that her nerves were getting unstrung again. Kennedy
rose to go.

"Later, come to see me," she pleaded. "But now--you must realise--
it is too much. I cannot talk--I cannot."

"Mr. Maitland had no enemies that you know of?" asked Kennedy,
determined to learn something now, at least.

"No, no. None that would--do that."

"You had had no quarrel?" he added.