Reading Help The Mysterious Affair at Styles Ch.VII-XIII
`
` "I am right, am I not?" asked Poirot. `
` `
` "Yes, yes; you must be a wizard to have guessed. But it can't be `
` so--it's too monstrous, too impossible. It must be Alfred `
` Inglethorp." `
` `
` Poirot shook his head gravely. `
` `
` "Don't ask me about it," continued Miss Howard, "because I shan't `
` tell you. I won't admit it, even to myself. I must be mad to `
` think of such a thing." `
` `
` Poirot nodded, as if satisfied. `
` `
` "I will ask you nothing. It is enough for me that it is as I `
` thought. And I--I, too, have an instinct. We are working `
` together towards a common end." `
` `
` "Don't ask me to help you, because I won't. I wouldn't lift a `
` finger to--to----" She faltered. `
` `
` "You will help me in spite of yourself. I ask you nothing--but `
` you will be my ally. You will not be able to help yourself. You `
` will do the only thing that I want of you." `
` `
` "And that is?" `
` `
` "You will watch!" `
` `
` Evelyn Howard bowed her head. `
` `
` "Yes, I can't help doing that. I am always watching--always `
` hoping I shall be proved wrong." `
` `
` "If we are wrong, well and good," said Poirot. "No one will be `
` more pleased than I shall. But, if we are right? If we are `
` right, Miss Howard, on whose side are you then?" `
` `
` "I don't know, I don't know----" `
` `
` "Come now." `
` `
` "It could be hushed up." `
` `
` "There must be no hushing up." `
` `
` "But Emily herself----" She broke off. `
` `
` "Miss Howard," said Poirot gravely, "this is unworthy of you." `
` `
` Suddenly she took her face from her hands. `
` `
` "Yes," she said quietly, "that was not Evelyn Howard who spoke!" `
` She flung her head up proudly. "_This_ is Evelyn Howard! And she `
` is on the side of Justice! Let the cost be what it may." And with `
` these words, she walked firmly out of the room. `
` `
` "There," said Poirot, looking after her, "goes a very valuable `
` ally. That woman, Hastings, has got brains as well as a heart." `
` `
` I did not reply. `
` `
` "Instinct is a marvellous thing," mused Poirot. "It can neither `
` be explained nor ignored." `
` `
` "You and Miss Howard seem to know what you are talking about," I `
` observed coldly. "Perhaps you don't realize that I am still in `
` the dark." `
` `
` "Really? Is that so, mon ami?" `
` `
` "Yes. Enlighten me, will you?" `
` `
` Poirot studied me attentively for a moment or two. Then, to my `
` intense surprise, he shook his head decidedly. `
` `
` "No, my friend." `
` `
` "Oh, look here, why not?" `
` `
` "Two is enough for a secret." `
` `
` "Well, I think it is very unfair to keep back facts from me." `
` `
` "I am not keeping back facts. Every fact that I know is in your `
` possession. You can draw your own deductions from them. This `
` time it is a question of ideas." `
` `
` "Still, it would be interesting to know." `
` `
` Poirot looked at me very earnestly, and again shook his head. `
` `
` "You see," he said sadly, "_you_ have no instincts." `
` `
` "It was intelligence you were requiring just now," I pointed out. `
` `
` "The two often go together," said Poirot enigmatically. `
` `
` The remark seemed so utterly irrelevant that I did not even take `
` the trouble to answer it. But I decided that if I made any `
` interesting and important discoveries--as no doubt I should--I `
` would keep them to myself, and surprise Poirot with the ultimate `
` result. `
` `
` There are times when it is one's duty to assert oneself. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER IX `
` `
` DR. BAUERSTEIN `
` `
` `
` I HAD had no opportunity as yet of passing on Poirot's message to `
` Lawrence. But now, as I strolled out on the lawn, still nursing `
` a grudge against my friend's high-handedness, I saw Lawrence on `
` the croquet lawn, aimlessly knocking a couple of very ancient `
` balls about, with a still more ancient mallet. `
` `
` It struck me that it would be a good opportunity to deliver my `
` message. Otherwise, Poirot himself might relieve me of it. It `
` was true that I did not quite gather its purport, but I flattered `
` myself that by Lawrence's reply, and perhaps a little skillful `
` cross-examination on my part, I should soon perceive its `
` significance. Accordingly I accosted him. `
` `
` "I've been looking for you," I remarked untruthfully. `
` `
` "Have you?" `
` `
` "Yes. The truth is, I've got a message for you--from Poirot." `
` `
` "Yes?" `
` `
` "He told me to wait until I was alone with you," I said, dropping `
` my voice significantly, and watching him intently out of the `
` corner of my eye. I have always been rather good at what is `
` called, I believe, creating an atmosphere. `
` `
` "Well?" `
` `
` There was no change of expression in the dark melancholic face. `
` Had he any idea of what I was about to say? `
` `
` "This is the message." I dropped my voice still lower. " 'Find `
` the extra coffee-cup, and you can rest in peace.' " `
` `
` "What on earth does he mean?" Lawrence stared at me in quite `
` unaffected astonishment. `
` `
` "Don't you know?" `
` `
` "Not in the least. Do you?" `
` `
` I was compelled to shake my head. `
` `
` "What extra coffee-cup?" `
` `
` "I don't know." `
` `
` "He'd better ask Dorcas, or one of the maids, if he wants to know `
` about coffee-cups. It's their business, not mine. I don't know `
` anything about the coffee-cups, except that we've got some that `
` are never used, which are a perfect dream! Old Worcester. You're `
` not a connoisseur, are you, Hastings?" `
` `
` I shook my head. `
` `
` "You miss a lot. A really perfect bit of old china--it's pure `
` delight to handle it, or even to look at it." `
` `
` "Well, what am I to tell Poirot?" `
` `
` "Tell him I don't know what he's talking about. It's double `
` Dutch to me." `
` `
` "All right." `
` `
` I was moving off towards the house again when he suddenly called `
` me back. `
` `
` "I say, what was the end of that message? Say it over again, will `
` you?" `
` `
` " 'Find the extra coffee-cup, and you can rest in peace.' Are you `
` sure you don't know what it means?" I asked him earnestly. `
` `
` He shook his head. `
` `
` "No," he said musingly, "I don't. I--I wish I did." `
` `
` The boom of the gong sounded from the house, and we went in `
` together. Poirot had been asked by John to remain to lunch, and `
` was already seated at the table. `
` `
` By tacit consent, all mention of the tragedy was barred. We `
` conversed on the war, and other outside topics. But after the `
` cheese and biscuits had been handed round, and Dorcas had left `
` the room, Poirot suddenly leant forward to Mrs. Cavendish. `
` `
`
` "I am right, am I not?" asked Poirot. `
` `
` "Yes, yes; you must be a wizard to have guessed. But it can't be `
` so--it's too monstrous, too impossible. It must be Alfred `
` Inglethorp." `
` `
` Poirot shook his head gravely. `
` `
` "Don't ask me about it," continued Miss Howard, "because I shan't `
` tell you. I won't admit it, even to myself. I must be mad to `
` think of such a thing." `
` `
` Poirot nodded, as if satisfied. `
` `
` "I will ask you nothing. It is enough for me that it is as I `
` thought. And I--I, too, have an instinct. We are working `
` together towards a common end." `
` `
` "Don't ask me to help you, because I won't. I wouldn't lift a `
` finger to--to----" She faltered. `
` `
` "You will help me in spite of yourself. I ask you nothing--but `
` you will be my ally. You will not be able to help yourself. You `
` will do the only thing that I want of you." `
` `
` "And that is?" `
` `
` "You will watch!" `
` `
` Evelyn Howard bowed her head. `
` `
` "Yes, I can't help doing that. I am always watching--always `
` hoping I shall be proved wrong." `
` `
` "If we are wrong, well and good," said Poirot. "No one will be `
` more pleased than I shall. But, if we are right? If we are `
` right, Miss Howard, on whose side are you then?" `
` `
` "I don't know, I don't know----" `
` `
` "Come now." `
` `
` "It could be hushed up." `
` `
` "There must be no hushing up." `
` `
` "But Emily herself----" She broke off. `
` `
` "Miss Howard," said Poirot gravely, "this is unworthy of you." `
` `
` Suddenly she took her face from her hands. `
` `
` "Yes," she said quietly, "that was not Evelyn Howard who spoke!" `
` She flung her head up proudly. "_This_ is Evelyn Howard! And she `
` is on the side of Justice! Let the cost be what it may." And with `
` these words, she walked firmly out of the room. `
` `
` "There," said Poirot, looking after her, "goes a very valuable `
` ally. That woman, Hastings, has got brains as well as a heart." `
` `
` I did not reply. `
` `
` "Instinct is a marvellous thing," mused Poirot. "It can neither `
` be explained nor ignored." `
` `
` "You and Miss Howard seem to know what you are talking about," I `
` observed coldly. "Perhaps you don't realize that I am still in `
` the dark." `
` `
` "Really? Is that so, mon ami?" `
` `
` "Yes. Enlighten me, will you?" `
` `
` Poirot studied me attentively for a moment or two. Then, to my `
` intense surprise, he shook his head decidedly. `
` `
` "No, my friend." `
` `
` "Oh, look here, why not?" `
` `
` "Two is enough for a secret." `
` `
` "Well, I think it is very unfair to keep back facts from me." `
` `
` "I am not keeping back facts. Every fact that I know is in your `
` possession. You can draw your own deductions from them. This `
` time it is a question of ideas." `
` `
` "Still, it would be interesting to know." `
` `
` Poirot looked at me very earnestly, and again shook his head. `
` `
` "You see," he said sadly, "_you_ have no instincts." `
` `
` "It was intelligence you were requiring just now," I pointed out. `
` `
` "The two often go together," said Poirot enigmatically. `
` `
` The remark seemed so utterly irrelevant that I did not even take `
` the trouble to answer it. But I decided that if I made any `
` interesting and important discoveries--as no doubt I should--I `
` would keep them to myself, and surprise Poirot with the ultimate `
` result. `
` `
` There are times when it is one's duty to assert oneself. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER IX `
` `
` DR. BAUERSTEIN `
` `
` `
` I HAD had no opportunity as yet of passing on Poirot's message to `
` Lawrence. But now, as I strolled out on the lawn, still nursing `
` a grudge against my friend's high-handedness, I saw Lawrence on `
` the croquet lawn, aimlessly knocking a couple of very ancient `
` balls about, with a still more ancient mallet. `
` `
` It struck me that it would be a good opportunity to deliver my `
` message. Otherwise, Poirot himself might relieve me of it. It `
` was true that I did not quite gather its purport, but I flattered `
` myself that by Lawrence's reply, and perhaps a little skillful `
` cross-examination on my part, I should soon perceive its `
` significance. Accordingly I accosted him. `
` `
` "I've been looking for you," I remarked untruthfully. `
` `
` "Have you?" `
` `
` "Yes. The truth is, I've got a message for you--from Poirot." `
` `
` "Yes?" `
` `
` "He told me to wait until I was alone with you," I said, dropping `
` my voice significantly, and watching him intently out of the `
` corner of my eye. I have always been rather good at what is `
` called, I believe, creating an atmosphere. `
` `
` "Well?" `
` `
` There was no change of expression in the dark melancholic face. `
` Had he any idea of what I was about to say? `
` `
` "This is the message." I dropped my voice still lower. " 'Find `
` the extra coffee-cup, and you can rest in peace.' " `
` `
` "What on earth does he mean?" Lawrence stared at me in quite `
` unaffected astonishment. `
` `
` "Don't you know?" `
` `
` "Not in the least. Do you?" `
` `
` I was compelled to shake my head. `
` `
` "What extra coffee-cup?" `
` `
` "I don't know." `
` `
` "He'd better ask Dorcas, or one of the maids, if he wants to know `
` about coffee-cups. It's their business, not mine. I don't know `
` anything about the coffee-cups, except that we've got some that `
` are never used, which are a perfect dream! Old Worcester. You're `
` not a connoisseur, are you, Hastings?" `
` `
` I shook my head. `
` `
` "You miss a lot. A really perfect bit of old china--it's pure `
` delight to handle it, or even to look at it." `
` `
` "Well, what am I to tell Poirot?" `
` `
` "Tell him I don't know what he's talking about. It's double `
` Dutch to me." `
` `
` "All right." `
` `
` I was moving off towards the house again when he suddenly called `
` me back. `
` `
` "I say, what was the end of that message? Say it over again, will `
` you?" `
` `
` " 'Find the extra coffee-cup, and you can rest in peace.' Are you `
` sure you don't know what it means?" I asked him earnestly. `
` `
` He shook his head. `
` `
` "No," he said musingly, "I don't. I--I wish I did." `
` `
` The boom of the gong sounded from the house, and we went in `
` together. Poirot had been asked by John to remain to lunch, and `
` was already seated at the table. `
` `
` By tacit consent, all mention of the tragedy was barred. We `
` conversed on the war, and other outside topics. But after the `
` cheese and biscuits had been handed round, and Dorcas had left `
` the room, Poirot suddenly leant forward to Mrs. Cavendish. `
` `
`