Загадочное происшествие в Стайлзе
Chapter VIII. Fresh Suspicions
Imadebutaslightgesture”—IknowPoirot’sgestures—“withthelefthand,andoverwentthetablebythebed!”
Helookedsochildishlyvexedandcrest-fallenthatIhastenedtoconsolehim.
“Nevermind,oldchap.Whatdoesitmatter?Yourtriumphdownstairsexcitedyou.Icantellyou,thatwasasurprisetousall.TheremustbemoreinthisaffairofInglethorp’swithMrs.Raikesthanwethought,tomakehimholdhistonguesopersistently.Whatareyougoingtodonow?WherearetheScotlandYardfellows?”
“Gonedowntointerviewtheservants.Ishowedthemallourexhibits.IamdisappointedinJapp.Hehasnomethod!”
“Hullo!”Isaid,lookingoutofthewindow.“Here’sDr.Bauerstein.Ibelieveyou’rerightaboutthatman,Poirot.Idon’tlikehim.”
“Heisclever,”observedPoirotmeditatively.
“Oh,cleverasthedevil!ImustsayIwasoverjoyedtoseehimintheplighthewasinonTuesday.Youneversawsuchaspectacle!”AndIdescribedthedoctor’sadventure.“Helookedaregularscarecrow!Plasteredwithmudfromheadtofoot.”
“Yousawhim,then?”
“Yes.Ofcourse,hedidn’twanttocomein—itwasjustafterdinner—butMr.Inglethorpinsisted.”
“What?”Poirotcaughtmeviolentlybytheshoulders.“WasDr.BauersteinhereonTuesdayevening?Here?Andyounevertoldme?Whydidyounottellme?Why?Why?”
Heappearedtobeinanabsolutefrenzy.
“MydearPoirot,”Iexpostulated,“Ineverthoughtitwouldinterestyou.Ididn’tknowitwasofanyimportance.
