faintly, and other less interesting snapshots.

As I looked at them I said nothing, but I must admit that the
whole thing began to assume a suspicious look in my mind in
connection with various hints I had heard dropped by organization
men about probing into the past, and other insinuations. I felt
that far from aiding Carton, things were now getting darker. There
was nothing but his unsupported word that he had not been in such
groups to counterbalance the existence of the actual pictures
themselves, on the surface a graphic clincher to Dorgan's story.
Kennedy, however, after an examination of the photographs clung no
less tenaciously to a purpose he already had in mind, and instead
of leaving them for Carton, took them himself, leaving a note
instead.

He stopped again to speak to Margaret Ashton. I did not hear all
of the conversation, but one phrase struck me, "And the worst of
it is that he called me up a little while ago and tried to act
toward me in the same old way--and that after I know what I know.
I--I could detect it in his voice. He knew he was concealing
something from me."

What Kennedy said to her, I do not know, but I don't think it had
much effect.

"That's the most difficult and unfortunate part of the whole
affair," he sighed as we left. "She believes it."

I had no comment that was worth while. What was to be done? If
people believed it generally, Carton was ruined.