Загадочное происшествие в Стайлзе
Chapter VIII. Fresh Suspicions
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“Whatlittleidea?”
“MissHoward,doyourememberaconversationthattookplaceonthedayofmyfriend’sarrivalhere?Herepeatedittome,andthereisasentenceofyoursthathasimpressedmeverymuch.Doyourememberaffirmingthatifacrimehadbeencommitted,andanyoneyoulovedhadbeenmurdered,youfeltcertainthatyouwouldknowbyinstinctwhothecriminalwas,evenifyouwerequiteunabletoproveit?”
“Yes,Iremembersayingthat.Ibelieveittoo.Isupposeyouthinkitnonsense?”
“Notatall.”
“AndyetyouwillpaynoattentiontomyinstinctagainstAlfredInglethorp.”
“No,”saidPoirotcurtly.“BecauseyourinstinctisnotagainstMr.Inglethorp.”
“What?”
“No.Youwishtobelievehecommittedthecrime.Youbelievehimcapableofcommittingit.Butyourinstincttellsyouhedidnotcommitit.Ittellsyoumore—shallIgoon?”
Shewasstaringathim,fascinated,andmadeaslightaffirmativemovementofthehand.
“ShallItellyouwhyyouhavebeensovehementagainstMr.Inglethorp?Itisbecauseyouhavebeentryingtobelievewhatyouwishtobelieve.Itisbecauseyouaretryingtodrownandstifleyourinstinct,whichtellsyouanothername——”
“No,no,no!”criedMissHowardwildly,flingingupherhands.“Don’tsayit!Oh,don’tsayit!Itisn’ttrue!Itcan’tbetrue.Idon’tknowwhatputsuchawild—suchadreadful—ideaintomyhead!”
“Iamright,amInot?”askedPoirot.
“Yes,yes;youmustbeawizardtohaveguessed.
