"H'm-m! I wonder just what he meant?"
"Oh! goodness! It doesn't matter what Gerald means. He makes me weary.
He's simply impossible—and I can't see what Sis ever married him for."
"I suppose she saw more in him than you do. They must be very happy together."
"Happy? Poof! Happy as two dead sardines in a can. They can't get out—so they might as well be happy. Besides, he's away a good deal."
"He is, eh? When was his last out-of-town trip?"
Carroll was interested now—he had steered the conversation back to matters of importance: "Oh! 'bout four days ago—you know—the day dear Roland was killed by that vampire in the taxicab."
"He was away that night: all night?"
"Uh-huh! All night long. And would you believe that Sis—who is scared of her shadow at night—was the one who suggested that I go spend the night with Hazel? And it's certainly fortunate she did, because if she hadn't I wouldn't have been with Hazel all night and you awful detectives would probably not have believed her story that she was at home in bed, and then you would have arrested her for murdering Roland—and she'd have gone to jail and been hanged—or something. Wouldn't she?"
"Hardly that bad. But it was fortunate that you were there. It made the establishing of the alibi a very simple matter. And you say your sister—Mrs. Lawrence—is nervous at night?"
"Oh! fearfully. She's just like all women—scared of rats, scared of the dark, scared of being alone—perfectly disgusting, I call it."