“Be seated, Mr Gibbs,” she said, with quiet dignity. “How do you do?”
“How do you do?” the detective returned, not quite at ease, in the presence of her forbidding manner. “I’m sorry to intrude——”
“Then don’t,” interrupted Letitia, her large, strong face frowning at him. “Why make us both sorry?”
“Because it must be done.” Gibbs gathered firmness from her own attitude. “This matter of the murder of Sir Herbert Binney is of sufficient importance not to wait on convenience or pleasure.”
“Quite right. And what have you done? Nothing, as usual? When one remembers that the crime occurred nearly a week ago, and no steps have yet been taken to apprehend the criminal——”
“Pardon me, Miss Prall, many steps have been taken, and they have led in a definite direction.”
“Good gracious, where!” The spinster was startled out of her calm and a look of concern spread over her face.
“First, tell me if you have any suspicions?”
“I have not, but if I had I’d never tell you, so long as they were merely suspicions. If I could prove them, I’d tell quick enough!”
“But I may help you to prove them—or disprove them.”