“There is one thing I should like to know—did Captain Paton wear shoes or boots that night?”
Ursula shook her head.
“I can’t remember.”
“A pity! But how should you? Now, madame,” he smiled at her, his head on one side, his forefinger wagging eloquently, “no questions. And do not torment yourself. Be of good courage, and place your faith in Hercule Poirot.”
CHAPTER XXIII
POIROT’S LITTLE REUNION
“And now,” said Caroline, rising, “that child is coming upstairs to lie down. Don’t you worry, my dear. M. Poirot will do everything he can for you—be sure of that.”
“I ought to go back to Fernly,” said Ursula uncertainly.
But Caroline silenced her protests with a firm hand.
“Nonsense. You’re in my hands for the time being. You’ll stay here for the present, anyway—eh, M. Poirot?”