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his prolonged gaze.
Was the family prostrated by grief? Was the sorrow at Mrs. Inglethorp's
death so great? I realized that there was an emotional lack in the
atmosphere. The dead woman had not the gift of commanding love. Her
death was a shock and a distress, but she would not be passionately
regretted.
Poirot seemed to follow my thoughts. He nodded his head gravely.
"No, you are right," he said, "it is not as though there was a blood tie. She
has been kind and generous to these Cavendishes, but she was not their
own mother. Blood tells--always remember that--blood tells."
"Poirot," I said, "I wish you would tell me why you wanted to know if Mrs.
Inglethorp ate well last night? I have been turning it over in my mind, but I
can't see how it has anything to do with the matter?"
He was silent for a minute or two as we walked along, but finally he said:
"I do not mind telling you--though, as you know, it is not my habit to
explain until the end is reached. The present contention is that Mrs.
Inglethorp died of strychnine poisoning, presumably administered in her
coffee."
"
"
"
"
Yes?"
Well, what time was the coffee served?"
About eight o'clock."
Therefore she drank it between then and half-past eight--certainly not
much later. Well, strychnine is a fairly rapid poison. Its effects would be felt
very soon, probably in about an hour. Yet, in Mrs. Inglethorp's case, the
symptoms do not manifest themselves until five o'clock the next morning:
nine hours! But a heavy meal, taken at about the same time as the poison,
might retard its effects, though hardly to that extent. Still, it is a possibility
to be taken into account. But, according to you, she ate very little for
supper, and yet the symptoms do not develop until early the next morning!
Now that is a curious circumstance, my friend. Something may arise at the
autopsy to explain it. In the meantime, remember it."
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