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I could not help rejoicing that, for once, one of his "little ideas" had come to
naught.
After lunch Poirot begged me to accompany him home. I consented rather
stiffly.
"You are annoyed, is it not so?" he asked anxiously, as we walked through
the park.
"Not at all," I said coldly.
"
That is well. That lifts a great load from my mind."
This was not quite what I had intended. I had hoped that he would have
observed the stiffness of my manner. Still, the fervour of his words went
towards the appeasing of my just displeasure. I thawed.
"
"
"
I gave Lawrence your message," I said.
And what did he say? He was entirely puzzled?"
Yes. I am quite sure he had no idea of what you meant."
I had expected Poirot to be disappointed; but, to my surprise, he replied that
that was as he had thought, and that he was very glad. My pride forbade me
to ask any questions.
Poirot switched off on another tack.
"
"
"
Mademoiselle Cynthia was not at lunch to-day? How was that?"
She is at the hospital again. She resumed work to-day."
Ah, she is an industrious little demoiselle. And pretty too. She is like
pictures I have seen in Italy. I would rather like to see that dispensary of
hers. Do you think she would show it to me?"
"
"
I am sure she would be delighted. It's an interesting little place."
Does she go there every day?"
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