Do you remember? It
was when you discovered that the lock of the despatch-case in
Mrs. Inglethorp's bedroom had been forced. You stood by the
mantel-piece, twiddling the things on it in your usual fashion,
and your hand shook like a leaf! I must say----"
But I stopped suddenly. For Poirot, uttering a hoarse and
inarticulate cry, again annihilated his masterpiece of cards, and
putting his hands over his eyes swayed backwards and forwards,
apparently suffering the keenest agony.
"Good heavens, Poirot!" I cried. "What is the matter? Are you
taken ill?"
"No, no," he gasped. "It is--it is--that I have an idea!"
"Oh!" I exclaimed, much relieved. "One of your 'little ideas'?"
"Ah, ma foi, no!" replied Poirot frankly. "This time it is an
idea gigantic! Stupendous! And you--_you_, my friend, have given
it to me!"
Suddenly clasping me in his arms, he kissed me warmly on both
cheeks, and before I had recovered from my surprise ran headlong
from the room.
Mary Cavendish entered at that moment.
Pages:
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277