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more--shall I go on?"
She was staring at him, fascinated, and made a slight affirmative movement
of the hand.
"
Shall I tell you why you have been so vehement against Mr. Inglethorp? It is
because you have been trying to believe what you wish to believe. It is
because you are trying to drown and stifle your instinct, which tells you
another name----"
"No, no, no!" cried Miss Howard wildly, flinging up her hands. "Don't say it!
Oh, don't say it! It isn't true! It can't be true. I don't know what put such a
wild--such a dreadful--idea into my head!"
"I am right, am I not?" asked Poirot.
"
Yes, yes; you must be a wizard to have guessed. But it can't be so--it's too
monstrous, too impossible. It must be Alfred Inglethorp."
Poirot shook his head gravely.
"
Don't ask me about it," continued Miss Howard, "because I shan't tell you. I
won't admit it, even to myself. I must be mad to think of such a thing."
Poirot nodded, as if satisfied.
"I will ask you nothing. It is enough for me that it is as I thought. And I--I,
too, have an instinct. We are working together towards a common end."
"Don't ask me to help you, because I won't. I wouldn't lift a finger to--to----"
She faltered.
"You will help me in spite of yourself. I ask you nothing--but you will be my
ally. You will not be able to help yourself. You will do the only thing that I
want of you."
"And that is?"
"You will watch!"
Evelyn Howard bowed her head.
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