With a long drawn exclamation of ecstasy, Poirot led the way back to the morning-room.
“See you, one should not ask for outside proof—no, reason should be enough. But the flesh is weak, it is consolation to find that one is on the right track. Ah, my friend, I am like a giant refreshed. I run! I leap!”
And, in very truth, run and leap he did, gambolling wildly down the stretch of lawn outside the long window.
“What is your remarkable little friend doing?” asked a voice behind me, and I turned
and seemed to reflect, still outwardly as calm as ever.
“Yes; I remember. Mrs. Inglethorp said something—I do not remember exactly what—about causing scandal between husband and wife.”
“Ah!” the Coroner leant back satisfied. “That corresponds with what Dorcas heard. But excuse me, Mrs. Cavendish,