Well, we will come
in and interview the brave Dorcas."
Dorcas was standing in the boudoir, her hands folded in front of
her, and her grey hair rose in stiff waves under her white cap.
She was the very model and picture of a good old-fashioned
servant.
In her attitude towards Poirot, she was inclined to be
suspicious, but he soon broke down her defences. He drew forward
a chair.
"Pray be seated, mademoiselle."
"Thank you, sir."
"You have been with your mistress many years, is it not so?"
"Ten years, sir."
"That is a long time, and very faithful service. You were much
attached to her, were you not?"
"She was a very good mistress to me, sir."
"Then you will not object to answering a few questions. I put
them to you with Mr. Cavendish's full approval."
"Oh, certainly, sir."
"Then I will begin by asking you about the events of yesterday
afternoon. Your mistress had a quarrel?"
"Yes, sir. But I don't know that I ought----" Dorcas hesitated.
Poirot looked at her keenly.
"My good Dorcas, it is necessary that I should know every detail
of that quarrel as fully as possible.
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