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taken into account."
A groan burst from Poirot.
"What have I always told you? Everything must be taken into account. If the
fact will not fit the theory--let the theory go."
"
Well, we shall see," I said, nettled.
Yes, we shall see."
"
We had reached Leastways Cottage, and Poirot ushered me upstairs to his
own room. He offered me one of the tiny Russian cigarettes he himself
occasionally smoked. I was amused to notice that he stowed away the used
matches most carefully in a little china pot. My momentary annoyance
vanished.
Poirot had placed our two chairs in front of the open window which
commanded a view of the village street. The fresh air blew in warm and
pleasant. It was going to be a hot day.
Suddenly my attention was arrested by a weedy looking young man rushing
down the street at a great pace. It was the expression on his face that was
extraordinary--a curious mingling of terror and agitation.
"
Look, Poirot!" I said.
He leant forward.
Tiens!" he said. "It is Mr. Mace, from the chemist's shop. He is coming
"
here."
The young man came to a halt before Leastways Cottage, and, after
hesitating a moment, pounded vigorously at the door.
"A little minute," cried Poirot from the window. "I come."
Motioning to me to follow him, he ran swiftly down the stairs and opened the
door. Mr. Mace began at once.
"
Oh, Mr. Poirot, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I heard that you'd just
come back from the Hall?"
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