"Why?" innocently. "Oh! just because Bright lights are such a nuisance when a girl has a feller calling on her. And these logs give a perfectly respectable light, don't they?" "Indeed they do--but perhaps we'd better leave the others on." She sighed resignedly. "I guess we'd better. Sis is so darned proper and Gerald is an old crab--they might say something." "I suppose they might. By they way, didn't they think it was--er--strange: my coming to see you tonight?" She turned red. "Suppose they did--what difference does that make? I'm not a child and if a gentleman wants to call on me I guess they haven't got any kick." "What did they say when you told them I was coming?" "They didn't believe me at first. Then Sis said you were too old--and you're not old at all--and Gerald said--he said--" she giggled. "What did Gerald say?" "He said, 'Damned impertinence!'" "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." "Quite a few women are that way, though--" "I'm not. I'm scared of snakes and flying bugs and things like that. But I don't get scared of the dark--pff! Who's going to hurt you? That's what I always say. I believe in figuring things out, don't you I read in a book once where--" "But maybe you do Mrs. Lawrence an injustice. Maybe she isn't as afraid at night as you imagine." "She is, too." "Yet you say she let you spend the night at Miss Gresham's house when Mr. Lawrence was out of the city and there wasn't anybody on the place but the servants--"