He used his best powers of persuasion on the spinster, and his wheedlesome ways, and pleasant smile made her affable and loquacious.
By roundabout talk, he drew from her at last some descriptions of the callers or visitors at the Gleason apartment.
She was loath to admit her curiosity, but she finally confessed that she occasionally hung over the stairway to watch matters below.
She defended her deed by explaining that she was lonely, and a little diversion of any sort was welcome.
“And, indeed, why shouldn’t I?” she asked; “it’s no crime to watch a body going or coming along the street, or into a house!”
“Of course it isn’t,” agreed Prescott, sympathetically. “Now, whom did you see go into Mr Gleason’s apartment on the day of the murder?”
“Two people.”
“Two! Both at once?”
“No; the lady came first.”
“Oh, she did. Wait a minute—did you see Mr Gleason himself come in?”