Загадочное происшествие в Стайлзе
Chapter V. “It Isn’t Strychnine, Is It?”
”
Ilookedattheextraordinarylittleman,dividedbetweenannoyanceandamusement.Hewassotremendouslysureofhimself.Asthoughhereadmythoughts,henoddedgently.
“Oh,yes,monami,IwoulddowhatIsay.”Hegotupandlaidhishandonmyshoulder.Hisphysiognomyunderwentacompletechange.Tearscameintohiseyes.“Inallthis,yousee,IthinkofthatpoorMrs.Inglethorpwhoisdead.Shewasnotextravagantlyloved—no.ButshewasverygoodtousBelgians—Ioweheradebt.”
Iendeavouredtointerrupt,butPoirotswepton.
“Letmetellyouthis,Hastings.ShewouldneverforgivemeifIletAlfredInglethorp,herhusband,bearrestednow—whenawordfrommecouldsavehim!”
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