He says that everything points to its being a simple
case of heart failure."
"He does, does he? That is very interesting--very interesting,"
murmured Poirot softly. "And Mrs. Cavendish?"
A faint cloud passed over John's face.
"I have not the least idea what my wife's views on the subject
are."
The answer brought a momentary stiffness in its train. John
broke the rather awkward silence by saying with a slight effort:
"I told you, didn't I, that Mr. Inglethorp has returned?"
Poirot bent his head.
"It's an awkward position for all of us. Of course one has to
treat him as usual--but, hang it all, one's gorge does rise at
sitting down to eat with a possible murderer!"
Poirot nodded sympathetically.
"I quite understand. It is a very difficult situation for you,
Mr. Cavendish. I would like to ask you one question. Mr.
Inglethorp's reason for not returning last night was, I believe,
that he had forgotten the latch-key. Is not that so?"
"Yes."
"I suppose you are quite sure that the latch-key _was_
forgotten--that he did not take it after all?"
"I have no idea.
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