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"You had a discussion with your wife on Tuesday afternoon?"

"Pardon me," interrupted Alfred Inglethorp, "you have been misinformed. I

had no quarrel with my dear wife. The whole story is absolutely untrue. I

was absent from the house the entire afternoon."

Have you anyone who can testify to that?"

"You have my word," said Inglethorp haughtily.

The Coroner did not trouble to reply.

There are two witnesses who will swear to having heard your disagreement

with Mrs. Inglethorp."

Those witnesses were mistaken."

I was puzzled. The man spoke with such quiet assurance that I was

staggered. I looked at Poirot. There was an expression of exultation on his

face which I could not understand. Was he at last convinced of Alfred

Inglethorp's guilt?

Mr. Inglethorp," said the Coroner, "you have heard your wife's dying words

repeated here. Can you explain them in any way?"

Certainly I can."

You can?"

It seems to me very simple. The room was dimly lighted. Dr. Bauerstein is

much of my height and build, and, like me, wears a beard. In the dim light,

and suffering as she was, my poor wife mistook him for me."

Ah!" murmured Poirot to himself. "But it is an idea, that!"

You think it is true?" I whispered.

I do not say that. But it is truly an ingenious supposition."

You read my wife's last words as an accusation"--Inglethorp was

continuing--"they were, on the contrary, an appeal to me."

The Mysterious Affair at Styles