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Maitland,"
began Kennedy. "We have called because the authorities are not yet
fully convinced that Mr. Maitland committed suicide."
It was evident that she had seen the note, at least. "Not a
suicide?" she repeated, looking from one to the other of us.
"Mr. Masterson on the wire, ma'am," whispered a maid. "Do you wish
to speak to him? He begged to say that he did not wish to intrude,
but he felt that if there--"
"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.


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