was a doctor.
That little Wilkins is about the greatest fool that even I have ever
seen. Heart seizure! Sort of thing he would say. Anyone with any sense
could see at once that her husband had poisoned her. I always said he'd
murder her in her bed, poor soul. Now he's done it. And all you can do
is to murmur silly things about 'heart seizure' and 'inquest on Friday.'
You ought to be ashamed of yourself, John Cavendish."

"What do you want me to do?" asked John, unable to help a faint smile.
"Dash it all, Evie, I can't haul him down to the local police station by
the scruff of his neck."

"Well, you might do something. Find out how he did it. He's a crafty
beggar. Dare say he soaked fly papers. Ask Cook if she's missed any."

It occurred to me very forcibly at that moment that to harbour Miss
Howard and Alfred Inglethorp under the same roof, and keep the peace
between them, was likely to prove a Herculean task, and I did not
envy John. I could see by the expression of his face that he fully
appreciated the difficulty of the position. For the moment, he sought
refuge in retreat, and left the room precipitately.

Dorcas brought in fresh tea. As she left the room, Poirot came over from
the window where he had been standing, and sat down facing Miss Howard.

"Mademoiselle," he said gravely, "I want to ask you something."

"Ask away," said the lady, eyeing him with some disfavour.

"I want to be able to count upon your help."

"I'll help you to hang Alfred with pleasure," she replied gruffly.
"Hanging's too good for him. Ought to be drawn and quartered, like in
good old times."

"We are at one then," said Poirot, "for I, too, want to hang the
criminal."

"Alfred Inglethorp?"

"Him, or another."

"No question of another. Poor Emily was never murdered until _he_ came
along. I don't say she wasn't surrounded by sharks--she was. But it
was only her purse they were after. Her life was safe enough. But along
comes Mr. Alfred Inglethorp--and within two months--hey presto!"

"Believe me, Miss Howard," said Poirot very earnestly, "if Mr.
Inglethorp is the man, he shall not escape me. On my honour, I will hang
him as high as Haman!"

"That's better," said Miss Howard more enthusiastically.

"But I must ask you to trust me. Now your help may be very valuable to
me. I will tell you why. Because, in all this house of mourning, yours
are the only eyes that have wept."

Miss Howard blinked, and a new note crept into the