Page 24 (1/1)

"Ca y est! Now, shall we start?"

We hurried up the village, and turned in at the lodge gates Poirot stopped for a azed sorrowfully over the beautiful expanse of park, still glittering withdew

"So beautiful, so beautiful, and yet, the poor farief"

He looked at me keenly as he spoke, and I are that I reddened under his prolonged gaze

Was the falethorp's death so great? I realized that there was an eift of co love Her death was a shock and a distress, but she would not be passionately regretted

Poirot seeravely

"No, you are right," he said, "it is not as though there was a blood tie She has been kind and generous to these Cavendishes, but she was not their own mother Blood tells--always remember that--blood tells"

"Poirot," I said, "I wish you would tell ht? I have been turning it over into do with the matter?"

He was silent for a , but finally he said: "I do not h, as you know, it is not my habit to explain until the end is reached The present contention is that Mrs Inglethorp died of strychnine poisoning, presumably administered in her coffee"

"Yes?"

"Well, what tiht o'clock"

"Therefore she drank it between then and half-past eight-- certainly not much later Well, strychnine is a fairly rapid poison Its effects would be felt very soon, probably in about an hour Yet, in Mrs Inglethorp's case, the symptoms do not : nine hours! But a heavy ht retard its effects, though hardly to that extent Still, it is a possibility to be taken into account But, according to you, she ate very little for supper, and yet the sy! Now that is a curious circu may arise at the autopsy to explain it In the meantime, remember it"

As we neared the house, John caard