"One must look at it logically."
"True."
"I should put it this way. The doors _were_ bolted--our own eyes
have told us that--yet the presence of the candle grease on the
floor, and the destruction of the will, prove that during the
night some one entered the room. You agree so far?"
"Perfectly. Put with admirable clearness. Proceed."
"Well," I said, encouraged, "as the person who entered did not do
so by the window, nor by miraculous means, it follows that the
door must have been opened from inside by Mrs. Inglethorp
herself. That strengthens the conviction that the person in
question was her husband. She would naturally open the door to
her own husband."
Poirot shook his head.
"Why should she? She had bolted the door leading into his room--a
most unusual proceeding on her part--she had had a most violent
quarrel with him that very afternoon. No, he was the last person
she would admit."
"But you agree with me that the door must have been opened by
Mrs. Inglethorp herself?"
"There is another possibility.
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