"Yes, you. I will tell you one thing, Mademoiselle. There has been a doubt all along in my mind as to whether the robbery and the murder were done by the same person. For a long time I was not sure—"
"And now?"
"And now I know."
There was a silence. Then Katherine lifted her head. Her eyes were shining.
"I am not clever like you, Monsieur Poirot. Half the things that you have been telling me don't seem to me to point anywhere at all. The ideas that came to me came from such an entirely different angle—"
"Ah, but that is always so," said Poirot quietly. "A mirror shows the truth, but every one stands in a different place for looking into the mirror."
"My ideas may be absurd—they may be entirely different from yours, but—"
"Yes?"
"Tell me, does this help you at all?"
He took a newspaper cutting from her outstretched hand. He read it and, looking up, he nodded gravely.