"You lived at Grasslands. Something might be dug out of you."
"But tell me, why should he be curious about Mr. Price?"
He had dropped one hand on the flooring and supported by it leaned forward toward his companion. The boyish good humor had gone from his face; it looked sharp-set and pugnacious.
The other shrugged:
"Ask him. All I can tell you is that Whitney & Whitney are Mrs. Janney's lawyers."
Willitts pondered, and while he pondered his eyes stared past the shadowy shape that was Mr. Larkin into the vine-draped blackness of the porch. Then he said:
"Mrs. Janney's down on Mr. Price. She's all for her daughter. I think she 'ates 'im."
The two h's dropped off with a simple unconsciousness that surprised Mr. Larkin. Never before in his intercourse with Willitts had he heard the letter so much as slighted. He made a mental note of it and said dryly:
"So I've heard."
The man again relapsed into thought, his glance riveted on the darkness, his expression obviously perturbed. Suddenly he looked at the vague bulk of Mr. Larkin and said sharply: