Загадочное происшествие в Стайлзе
Chapter V. “It Isn’t Strychnine, Is It?”
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“Whatdidshedowithitafterwards?”
“Well,sir,sheslippeditintoalongenvelope,andputitinsideasortofpurpleboxthatwasstandingonthedesk.”
“Whattimewasitwhenshefirstcalledyou?”
“Aboutfour,Ishouldsay,sir.”
“Notearlier?Couldn’tithavebeenabouthalf-pastthree?”
“No,Ishouldn’tsayso,sir.Itwouldbemorelikelytobeabitafterfour—notbeforeit.”
“Thankyou,Manning,thatwilldo,”saidPoirotpleasantly.
Thegardenerglancedathismaster,whonodded,whereuponManningliftedafingertohisforeheadwithalowmumble,andbackedcautiouslyoutofthewindow.
Wealllookedateachother.
“Goodheavens!”murmuredJohn.“Whatanextraordinarycoincidence.”
“How—acoincidence?”
“Thatmymothershouldhavemadeawillontheverydayofherdeath!”
Mr.Wellsclearedhisthroatandremarkeddrily:
“Areyousosureitisacoincidence,Cavendish?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Yourmother,youtellme,hadaviolentquarrelwith—someoneyesterdayafternoon——”
“Whatdoyoumean?”criedJohnagain.Therewasatremorinhisvoice,andhehadgoneverypale.
“Inconsequenceofthatquarrel,yourmotherverysuddenlyandhurriedlymakesanewwill.Thecontentsofthatwillweshallneverknow.Shetoldnooneofitsprovisions.Thismorning,nodoubt,shewouldhaveconsultedmeonthesubject—butshehadnochance.Thewilldisappears,andshetakesitssecretwithhertohergrave.Cavendish,Imuchfearthereisnocoincidencethere.
