Accordingly I accosted him.
"I've been looking for you," I remarked untruthfully.
"Have you?"
"Yes. The truth is, I've got a message for you--from Poirot."
"Yes?"
"He told me to wait until I was alone with you," I said, dropping
my voice significantly, and watching him intently out of the
corner of my eye. I have always been rather good at what is
called, I believe, creating an atmosphere.
"Well?"
There was no change of expression in the dark melancholic face.
Had he any idea of what I was about to say?
"This is the message." I dropped my voice still lower. " 'Find
the extra coffee-cup, and you can rest in peace.' "
"What on earth does he mean?" Lawrence stared at me in quite
unaffected astonishment.
"Don't you know?"
"Not in the least. Do you?"
I was compelled to shake my head.
"What extra coffee-cup?"
"I don't know."
"He'd better ask Dorcas, or one of the maids, if he wants to know
about coffee-cups. It's their business, not mine. I don't know
anything about the coffee-cups, except that we've got some that
are never used, which are a perfect dream! Old Worcester.
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