Chapter XII. The Last Link

           “Poirot,youoldvillain,”Isaid,“I’vehalfamindtostrangleyou!Whatdoyoumeanbydeceivingmeasyouhavedone?”

           Weweresittinginthelibrary.Severalhecticdayslaybehindus.Intheroombelow,JohnandMaryweretogetheroncemore,whileAlfredInglethorpandMissHowardwereincustody.Nowatlast,IhadPoirottomyself,andcouldrelievemystillburningcuriosity.

           Poirotdidnotanswermeforamoment,butatlasthesaid:

           “Ididnotdeceiveyou,monami.Atmost,Ipermittedyoutodeceiveyourself.”

           “Yes,butwhy?”

           “Well,itisdifficulttoexplain.Yousee,myfriend,youhaveanaturesohonest,andacountenancesotransparent,that—enfin,toconcealyourfeelingsisimpossible!IfIhadtoldyoumyideas,theveryfirsttimeyousawMr.AlfredInglethorpthatastutegentlemanwouldhave—inyoursoexpressiveidiom—‘smeltarat’!Andthen,bonjourtoourchancesofcatchinghim!”

           “IthinkthatIhavemorediplomacythanyougivemecreditfor.”

           “Myfriend,”besoughtPoirot,“Iimploreyou,donotenrageyourself!Yourhelphasbeenofthemostinvaluable.Itisbuttheextremelybeautifulnaturethatyouhave,whichmademepause.”

           “Well,”Igrumbled,alittlemollified.“Istillthinkyoumighthavegivenmeahint.”

           “ButIdid,myfriend.Severalhints.Youwouldnottakethem.