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as much as she thought," replied Poirot philosophically.
"But----"
"
Here he is."
Lawrence at that moment passed the door.
"Eh! Monsieur Lawrence," called Poirot. "We must congratulate you, is it not
so?"
Lawrence blushed, and then smiled awkwardly. A man in love is a sorry
spectacle. Now Cynthia had looked charming.
I sighed.
"
"
"
What is it, mon ami?"
Nothing," I said sadly. "They are two delightful women!"
And neither of them is for you?" finished Poirot. "Never mind. Console
yourself, my friend. We may hunt together again, who knows? And then----"
THE END
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