The Mysterious Affair at Styles


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"
"
"
Yes, I do. I've got--"  
Never mind what you've got. You don't really want to--and I don't either."  
Well, of course, that settles it," I said stiffly. "But I don't see anything to  
laugh at. There's nothing funny about a proposal."  
"No, indeed," said Cynthia. "Somebody might accept you next time. Good-  
bye, you've cheered me up very much."  
And, with a final uncontrollable burst of merriment, she vanished through  
the trees.  
Thinking over the interview, it struck me as being profoundly unsatisfactory.  
It occurred to me suddenly that I would go down to the village, and look up  
Bauerstein. Somebody ought to be keeping an eye on the fellow. At the same  
time, it would be wise to allay any suspicions he might have as to his being  
suspected. I remembered how Poirot had relied on my diplomacy.  
Accordingly, I went to the little house with the "Apartments" card inserted in  
the window, where I knew he lodged, and tapped on the door.  
An old woman came and opened it.  
"
Good afternoon," I said pleasantly. "Is Dr. Bauerstein in?"  
She stared at me.  
"
"
"
"
"
"
"
Haven't you heard?"  
Heard what?"  
About him."  
What about him?"  
He's took."  
Took? Dead?"  
No, took by the perlice."  
140  


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