She agreed eagerly. Outside the window Hotchkiss was bending over, examining footprints in the drive.
“Now,” I began, “there has been a Miss West staying here?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Sullivan was attentive to her?”
“Yes. She was the granddaughter of a wealthy man in Pittsburg. My aunt has been in his family for twenty years. Mrs. Curtis wanted her brother to marry Miss West.”
“Do you think he did marry her?” I could not keep the excitement out of my voice.
“No. There were reasons”—she stopped abruptly.
“Do you know anything of the family? Are they—were they New Yorkers?”
“They came from somewhere in the south. I have heard Mrs. Curtis say her mother was a Cuban. I don’t know much about them, but Mr. Sullivan had a wicked temper, though he didn’t look it. Folks say big, light-haired people are easy going, but I don’t believe it, sir.”
“How long was Miss West here?”