They always
take out the key before leaving the room."
"Indeed. It is near the window, this cupboard?"
"No, right the other side of the room. Why?"
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
"I wondered. That is all. Will you come in?"
We had reached the cottage.
"No. I think I'll be getting back. I shall go round the long
way through the woods."
The woods round Styles were very beautiful. After the walk
across the open park, it was pleasant to saunter lazily through
the cool glades. There was hardly a breath of wind, the very
chirp of the birds was faint and subdued. I strolled on a little
way, and finally flung myself down at the foot of a grand old
beech-tree. My thoughts of mankind were kindly and charitable.
I even forgave Poirot for his absurd secrecy. In fact, I was at
peace with the world. Then I yawned.
I thought about the crime, and it struck me as being very unreal
and far off.
I yawned again.
Probably, I thought, it really never happened. Of course, it was
all a bad dream.
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