Poirot looked merely bewildered.
“In Cranchester? But why in Cranchester?”
I enlightened him with a touch of malice.
“One of our ample staff of private detectives happened to see you in a car on the Cranchester road yesterday,” I explained.
Poirot’s bewilderment vanished. He laughed heartily.
“Ah, that! A simple visit to the dentist, c’est tout. My tooth, it aches. I go there. My tooth, it is at once better. I think to return quickly. The dentist, he says No. Better to have it out. I argue. He insists. He has his way! That particular tooth, it will never ache again.”
Caroline collapsed rather like a pricked balloon.
We fell to discussing Ralph Paton.
“A weak nature,” I insisted. “But not a vicious one.”
“Ah!” said Poirot. “But weakness, where does it end?”