When the woman, heavily veiled and warmly wrapped, came down the step and turned down the street, he followed her. All that had passed was like a dim bewildering vision. All that he saw in the streets of the city—the faces he beheld—all was like a monstrous nightmare. It did not seem that anything was real.
He still shadowed the woman who went directly to the elevated train, and when they came to the station where he knew Milburn got off, he anxiously watched the woman.
She got up, and, without looking to right or left, hurried out of the coach. It had stopped raining, but she raised her umbrella and went on.
Marrion walked behind her until there was no one near, then he stepped up:
"I must speak to you," he said.
She turned upon him an unmerciful stare.
"How dare you, sir?"
"Forgive me, but I must understand it all," he exclaimed, excitedly.
"But what right have you, Mr. Latham, to shadow me, or question?"
"To save Robert Milburn's home—that's what. I should think you, who owe so much to his friendship, would not dare to do this." He caught her by the hand:
