"
"I see."
A faint expression of relief swept over John's face. It puzzled
me, for I saw no occasion for it.
"If you know of nothing to the contrary," pursued Mr. Wells, "I
had thought of Friday. That will give us plenty of time for the
doctor's report. The post-mortem is to take place to-night, I
believe?"
"Yes."
"Then that arrangement will suit you?"
"Perfectly."
"I need not tell you, my dear Cavendish, how distressed I am at
this most tragic affair."
"Can you give us no help in solving it, monsieur?" interposed
Poirot, speaking for the first time since we had entered the
room.
"I?"
"Yes, we heard that Mrs. Inglethorp wrote to you last night. You
should have received the letter this morning."
"I did, but it contains no information. It is merely a note
asking me to call upon her this morning, as she wanted my advice
on a matter of great importance."
"She gave you no hint as to what that matter might be?"
"Unfortunately, no."
"That is a pity," said John.
"A great pity," agreed Poirot gravely.
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