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II. The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor

           “Ishalllockit,so!”

           “Don’tdothat,”shegasped,“ifitshouldcomeopennow——”

           Andevenasshespoketheimpossiblehappened.Thelockeddoorslowlyswungopen.IcouldnotseeintothepassagefromwhereIsat,butsheandPoirotwerefacingit.Shegaveonelongshriekassheturnedtohim.

           “Yousawhim—thereinthepassage?”shecried.

           Hewasstaringdownatherwithapuzzledface,thenshookhishead.

           “Isawhim—myhusband—youmusthaveseenhimtoo?”

           “Madame,Isawnothing.Youarenotwell—unstrung——”

           “Iamperfectlywell,I——Oh,God!”

           Suddenly,withoutanywarning,thelightsquiveredandwentout.Outofthedarknesscamethreeloudraps.IcouldhearMrs.Maltraversmoaning.

           Andthen—Isaw!

           ThemanIhadseenonthebedupstairsstoodtherefacingus,gleamingwithafaintghostlylight.Therewasbloodonhislips,andheheldhisrighthandout,pointing.Suddenlyabrilliantlightseemedtoproceedfromit.ItpassedoverPoirotandme,andfellonMrs.Maltravers.Isawherwhiteterrifiedface,andsomethingelse!

           “MyGod,Poirot!”Icried.“Lookatherhand,herrighthand.It’sallred!”

           Herowneyesfellonit,andshecollapsedinaheaponthefloor.

           “Blood,”shecriedhysterically.“Yes,it’sblood.Ikilledhim.Ididit.Hewasshowingme,andthenIputmyhandonthetriggerandpressed.Savemefromhim—saveme!he’scomeback!”

           Hervoicediedawayinagurgle.

           “Lights,”saidPoirotbriskly.

           Thelightswentonasifbymagic.

           “That’sit,”hecontinued.

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