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Chapter IV. Poirot Investigates
Shewasobviouslyupset,andithadtakenherappetiteaway.Thatwasonlynatural.”
“Yes,”saidPoirotthoughtfully,“itwasonlynatural.”
Heopenedadrawer,andtookoutasmalldespatch-case,thenturnedtome.
“NowIamready.Wewillproceedtothechâteau,andstudymattersonthespot.Excuseme,monami,youdressedinhaste,andyourtieisononeside.Permitme.”Withadeftgesture,herearrangedit.
“Çayest!Now,shallwestart?”
Wehurriedupthevillage,andturnedinatthelodgegates.Poirotstoppedforamoment,andgazedsorrowfullyoverthebeautifulexpanseofpark,stillglitteringwithmorningdew.
“Sobeautiful,sobeautiful,andyet,thepoorfamily,plungedinsorrow,prostratedwithgrief.”
Helookedatmekeenlyashespoke,andIwasawarethatIreddenedunderhisprolongedgaze.
Wasthefamilyprostratedbygrief?WasthesorrowatMrs.Inglethorp’sdeathsogreat?Irealizedthattherewasanemotionallackintheatmosphere.Thedeadwomanhadnotthegiftofcommandinglove.Herdeathwasashockandadistress,butshewouldnotbepassionatelyregretted.
Poirotseemedtofollowmythoughts.Henoddedhisheadgravely.
“No,youareright,”hesaid,“itisnotasthoughtherewasabloodtie.ShehasbeenkindandgeneroustotheseCavendishes,butshewasnottheirownmother.Bloodtells—alwaysrememberthat—bloodtells.”
“Poirot,”Isaid,“IwishyouwouldtellmewhyyouwantedtoknowifMrs.
