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Poirot had placed our two chairs in front of the open hich coe street The fresh air blear to be a hot day

Suddenlydown the street at a great pace It was the expression on his face that was extraordinary--a curious itation

"Look, Poirot!" I said

He leant forward

"Tiens!" he said "It is Mr Mace, fro e, and, after hesitating a orously at the door

"A littleto me to follow him, he ran swiftly down the stairs and opened the door Mr Mace began at once

"Oh, Mr Poirot, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I heard that you'd just cocuriously

"It's all over the village about old Mrs Inglethorp dying so suddenly They do say--" he lowered his voice cautiously-- "that it's poison?"

Poirot's face remained quite impassive

"Only the doctors can tell us that, Mr Mace"

"Yes, exactly--of course----" The young itation was too much for him He clutched Poirot by the arm, and sank his voice to a whisper: "Just tell me this, Mr Poirot, it isn't--it isn't strychnine, is it?"

I hardly heard what Poirot replied So man departed, and as he closed the door Poirot's eyes ravely "He will have evidence to give at the inquest"

We went slowly upstairs again I was opening esture of his hand

"Not now, not now, mon ami I have need of reflection My mind is in some disorder--which is not well"

For about ten minutes he sat in dead silence, perfectly still, except for several expressive rew steadily greener At last he heaved a deep sigh

"It is well The bad ed and classified One must never permit confusion The case is not clear yet--no For it is of the most complicated! It puzzles nificance"