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Chapter VIII. Fresh Suspicions

           Butitcan’tbeso—it’stoomonstrous,tooimpossible.ItmustbeAlfredInglethorp.”

           Poirotshookhisheadgravely.

           “Don’taskmeaboutit,”continuedMissHoward,“becauseIshan’ttellyou.Iwon’tadmitit,eventomyself.Imustbemadtothinkofsuchathing.”

           Poirotnodded,asifsatisfied.

           “Iwillaskyounothing.ItisenoughformethatitisasIthought.AndI—I,too,haveaninstinct.Weareworkingtogethertowardsacommonend.”

           “Don’taskmetohelpyou,becauseIwon’t.Iwouldn’tliftafingerto—to——”Shefaltered.

           “Youwillhelpmeinspiteofyourself.Iaskyounothing—butyouwillbemyally.Youwillnotbeabletohelpyourself.YouwilldotheonlythingthatIwantofyou.”

           “Andthatis?”

           “Youwillwatch!”

           EvelynHowardbowedherhead.

           “Yes,Ican’thelpdoingthat.Iamalwayswatching—alwayshopingIshallbeprovedwrong.”

           “Ifwearewrong,wellandgood,”saidPoirot.“NoonewillbemorepleasedthanIshall.But,ifweareright?Ifweareright,MissHoward,onwhosesideareyouthen?”

           “Idon’tknow,Idon’tknow——”

           “Comenow.”

           “Itcouldbehushedup.”

           “Theremustbenohushingup.”

           “ButEmilyherself——”Shebrokeoff.

           “MissHoward,”saidPoirotgravely,“thisisunworthyofyou.”

           Suddenlyshetookherfacefromherhands.

           “Yes,”shesaidquietly,“thatwasnotEvelynHowardwhospoke!”Sheflungherheadupproudly.

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