Especially he learned the character of Miss Prall, or, rather, the traits of her character that interested the Everett household.
Their tales may have been exaggerated, probably were, but he decided they contained internal evidence of Letitia’s insincerity and untruthfulness.
He found out to his own conviction that he could not rely implicitly on the word of Miss Prall, and, this granted, her whole story might fall to the ground.
The feud was talked over and detailed to him until he was positively sick of it, but he persevered in the talk, trying to lead it toward the murder.
But the women were wary of this subject. Whether it was too grewsome for their taste or whether there was some other reason, Gibbs tried hard to find out.
“But you told me you had something to communicate,” he insisted, to the canny-looking Kate.
Her sharp eyes scrutinized him.
“Oh, I don’t know anything definite,” she said, with a somewhat defiant glance at Mrs Everett. “And if I did, I’m not allowed to tell it.”
“If you know anything at all,—definite or suggestive, you’re to tell it, whether you’re allowed or not!” Gibbs cried, willing to try intimidation. “Don’t you know, woman, that you can be jailed if you withhold information from the police?”
Mrs Everett giggled. “You can’t frighten Kate,” she said; “she has no fear of anything.”