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CHAPTER VI. THE INQUEST
In the interval before the inquest, Poirot was unfailing in his activity. Twice
he was closeted with Mr. Wells. He also took long walks into the country. I
rather resented his not taking me into his confidence, the more so as I could
not in the least guess what he was driving at.
It occurred to me that he might have been making inquiries at Raikes's
farm; so, finding him out when I called at Leastways Cottage on Wednesday
evening, I walked over there by the fields, hoping to meet him. But there was
no sign of him, and I hesitated to go right up to the farm itself. As I walked
away, I met an aged rustic, who leered at me cunningly.
"You'm from the Hall, bain't you?" he asked.
"Yes. I'm looking for a friend of mine whom I thought might have walked this
way."
"
A little chap? As waves his hands when he talks? One of them Belgies from
the village?"
"Yes," I said eagerly. "He has been here, then?"
"Oh, ay, he's been here, right enough. More'n once too. Friend of yours, is
he? Ah, you gentlemen from the Hall--you'n a pretty lot!" And he leered more
jocosely than ever.
"Why, do the gentlemen from the Hall come here often?" I asked, as
carelessly as I could.
He winked at me knowingly.
"One does, mister. Naming no names, mind. And a very liberal gentleman
too! Oh, thank you, sir, I'm sure."
I walked on sharply. Evelyn Howard had been right then, and I experienced
a sharp twinge of disgust, as I thought of Alfred Inglethorp's liberality with
another woman's money. Had that piquant gipsy face been at the bottom of
the crime, or was it the baser mainspring of money? Probably a judicious
mixture of both.
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