Reading Help The Mysterious Affair at Styles Ch.VII-XIII
`
` "Pardon me, madame, for recalling unpleasant memories, but I have `
` a little idea"--Poirot's "little ideas" were becoming a perfect `
` byword--"and would like to ask one or two questions." `
` `
` "Of me? Certainly." `
` `
` "You are too amiable, madame. What I want to ask is this: the `
` door leading into Mrs. Inglethorp's room from that of `
` Mademoiselle Cynthia, it was bolted, you say?" `
` `
` "Certainly it was bolted," replied Mary Cavendish, rather `
` surprised. "I said so at the inquest." `
` `
` "Bolted?" `
` `
` "Yes." She looked perplexed. `
` `
` "I mean," explained Poirot, "you are sure it was bolted, and not `
` merely locked?" `
` `
` "Oh, I see what you mean. No, I don't know. I said bolted, `
` meaning that it was fastened, and I could not open it, but I `
` believe all the doors were found bolted on the inside." `
` `
` "Still, as far as you are concerned, the door might equally well `
` have been locked?" `
` `
` "Oh, yes." `
` `
` "You yourself did not happen to notice, madame, when you entered `
` Mrs. Inglethorp's room, whether that door was bolted or not?" `
` `
` "I--I believe it was." `
` `
` "But you did not see it?" `
` `
` "No. I--never looked." `
` `
` "But I did," interrupted Lawrence suddenly. "I happened to `
` notice that it _was_ bolted." `
` `
` "Ah, that settles it." And Poirot looked crestfallen. `
` `
` I could not help rejoicing that, for once, one of his "little `
` ideas" had come to naught. `
` `
` After lunch Poirot begged me to accompany him home. I consented `
` rather stiffly. `
` `
` "You are annoyed, is it not so?" he asked anxiously, as we walked `
` through the park. `
` `
` "Not at all," I said coldly. `
` `
` "That is well. That lifts a great load from my mind." `
` `
` This was not quite what I had intended. I had hoped that he `
` would have observed the stiffness of my manner. Still, the `
` fervour of his words went towards the appeasing of my just `
` displeasure. I thawed. `
` `
` "I gave Lawrence your message," I said. `
` `
` "And what did he say? He was entirely puzzled?" `
` `
` "Yes. I am quite sure he had no idea of what you meant." `
` `
` I had expected Poirot to be disappointed; but, to my surprise, he `
` replied that that was as he had thought, and that he was very `
` glad. My pride forbade me to ask any questions. `
` `
` Poirot switched off on another tack. `
` `
` "Mademoiselle Cynthia was not at lunch to-day? How was that?" `
` `
` "She is at the hospital again. She resumed work to-day." `
` `
` "Ah, she is an industrious little demoiselle. And pretty too. `
` She is like pictures I have seen in Italy. I would rather like `
` to see that dispensary of hers. Do you think she would show it `
` to me?" `
` `
` "I am sure she would be delighted. It's an interesting little `
` place." `
` `
` "Does she go there every day?" `
` `
` "She has all Wednesdays off, and comes back to lunch on `
` Saturdays. Those are her only times off." `
` `
` "I will remember. Women are doing great work nowadays, and `
` Mademoiselle Cynthia is clever--oh, yes, she has brains, that `
` little one." `
` `
` "Yes. I believe she has passed quite a stiff exam." `
` `
` "Without doubt. After all, it is very responsible work. I `
` suppose they have very strong poisons there?" `
` `
` "Yes, she showed them to us. They are kept locked up in a little `
` cupboard. I believe they have to be very careful. They always `
` take out the key before leaving the room." `
` `
` "Indeed. It is near the window, this cupboard?" `
` `
` "No, right the other side of the room. Why?" `
` `
` Poirot shrugged his shoulders. `
` `
` "I wondered. That is all. Will you come in?" `
` `
` We had reached the cottage. `
` `
` "No. I think I'll be getting back. I shall go round the long `
` way through the woods." `
` `
` The woods round Styles were very beautiful. After the walk `
` across the open park, it was pleasant to saunter lazily through `
` the cool glades. There was hardly a breath of wind, the very `
` chirp of the birds was faint and subdued. I strolled on a little `
` way, and finally flung myself down at the foot of a grand old `
` beech-tree. My thoughts of mankind were kindly and charitable. `
` I even forgave Poirot for his absurd secrecy. In fact, I was at `
` peace with the world. Then I yawned. `
` `
` I thought about the crime, and it struck me as being very unreal `
` and far off. `
` `
` I yawned again. `
` `
` Probably, I thought, it really never happened. Of course, it was `
` all a bad dream. The truth of the matter was that it was `
` Lawrence who had murdered Alfred Inglethorp with a croquet `
` mallet. But it was absurd of John to make such a fuss about it, `
` and to go shouting out: "I tell you I won't have it!" `
` `
` I woke up with a start. `
` `
` At once I realized that I was in a very awkward predicament. `
` For, about twelve feet away from me, John and Mary Cavendish were `
` standing facing each other, and they were evidently quarrelling. `
` And, quite as evidently, they were unaware of my vicinity, for `
` before I could move or speak John repeated the words which had `
` aroused me from my dream. `
` `
` "I tell you, Mary, I won't have it." `
` `
` Mary's voice came, cool and liquid: `
` `
` "Have _you_ any right to criticize my actions?" `
` `
` "It will be the talk of the village! My mother was only buried on `
` Saturday, and here you are gadding about with the fellow." `
` `
` "Oh," she shrugged her shoulders, "if it is only village gossip `
` that you mind!" `
` `
` "But it isn't. I've had enough of the fellow hanging about. `
` He's a Polish Jew, anyway." `
` `
` "A tinge of Jewish blood is not a bad thing. It leavens `
` the"--she looked at him--"stolid stupidity of the ordinary `
` Englishman." `
` `
` Fire in her eyes, ice in her voice. I did not wonder that the `
` blood rose to John's face in a crimson tide. `
` `
` "Mary!" `
` `
` "Well?" Her tone did not change. `
` `
` The pleading died out of his voice. `
` `
` "Am I to understand that you will continue to see Bauerstein `
` against my express wishes?" `
` `
` "If I choose." `
` `
` "You defy me?" `
` `
` "No, but I deny your right to criticize my actions. Have _you_ no `
` friends of whom I should disapprove?" `
` `
` John fell back a pace. The colour ebbed slowly from his face. `
` `
` "What do you mean?" he said, in an unsteady voice. `
` `
` "You see!" said Mary quietly. "You _do_ see, don't you, that _you_ `
` have no right to dictate to _me_ as to the choice of my friends?" `
` `
` John glanced at her pleadingly, a stricken look on his face. `
` `
` "No right? Have I _no_ right, Mary?" he said unsteadily. He `
` stretched out his hands. "Mary----" `
` `
` For a moment, I thought she wavered. A softer expression came `
` over her face, then suddenly she turned almost fiercely away. `
` `
` "None!" `
` `
`
` "Pardon me, madame, for recalling unpleasant memories, but I have `
` a little idea"--Poirot's "little ideas" were becoming a perfect `
` byword--"and would like to ask one or two questions." `
` `
` "Of me? Certainly." `
` `
` "You are too amiable, madame. What I want to ask is this: the `
` door leading into Mrs. Inglethorp's room from that of `
` Mademoiselle Cynthia, it was bolted, you say?" `
` `
` "Certainly it was bolted," replied Mary Cavendish, rather `
` surprised. "I said so at the inquest." `
` `
` "Bolted?" `
` `
` "Yes." She looked perplexed. `
` `
` "I mean," explained Poirot, "you are sure it was bolted, and not `
` merely locked?" `
` `
` "Oh, I see what you mean. No, I don't know. I said bolted, `
` meaning that it was fastened, and I could not open it, but I `
` believe all the doors were found bolted on the inside." `
` `
` "Still, as far as you are concerned, the door might equally well `
` have been locked?" `
` `
` "Oh, yes." `
` `
` "You yourself did not happen to notice, madame, when you entered `
` Mrs. Inglethorp's room, whether that door was bolted or not?" `
` `
` "I--I believe it was." `
` `
` "But you did not see it?" `
` `
` "No. I--never looked." `
` `
` "But I did," interrupted Lawrence suddenly. "I happened to `
` notice that it _was_ bolted." `
` `
` "Ah, that settles it." And Poirot looked crestfallen. `
` `
` I could not help rejoicing that, for once, one of his "little `
` ideas" had come to naught. `
` `
` After lunch Poirot begged me to accompany him home. I consented `
` rather stiffly. `
` `
` "You are annoyed, is it not so?" he asked anxiously, as we walked `
` through the park. `
` `
` "Not at all," I said coldly. `
` `
` "That is well. That lifts a great load from my mind." `
` `
` This was not quite what I had intended. I had hoped that he `
` would have observed the stiffness of my manner. Still, the `
` fervour of his words went towards the appeasing of my just `
` displeasure. I thawed. `
` `
` "I gave Lawrence your message," I said. `
` `
` "And what did he say? He was entirely puzzled?" `
` `
` "Yes. I am quite sure he had no idea of what you meant." `
` `
` I had expected Poirot to be disappointed; but, to my surprise, he `
` replied that that was as he had thought, and that he was very `
` glad. My pride forbade me to ask any questions. `
` `
` Poirot switched off on another tack. `
` `
` "Mademoiselle Cynthia was not at lunch to-day? How was that?" `
` `
` "She is at the hospital again. She resumed work to-day." `
` `
` "Ah, she is an industrious little demoiselle. And pretty too. `
` She is like pictures I have seen in Italy. I would rather like `
` to see that dispensary of hers. Do you think she would show it `
` to me?" `
` `
` "I am sure she would be delighted. It's an interesting little `
` place." `
` `
` "Does she go there every day?" `
` `
` "She has all Wednesdays off, and comes back to lunch on `
` Saturdays. Those are her only times off." `
` `
` "I will remember. Women are doing great work nowadays, and `
` Mademoiselle Cynthia is clever--oh, yes, she has brains, that `
` little one." `
` `
` "Yes. I believe she has passed quite a stiff exam." `
` `
` "Without doubt. After all, it is very responsible work. I `
` suppose they have very strong poisons there?" `
` `
` "Yes, she showed them to us. They are kept locked up in a little `
` cupboard. I believe they have to be very careful. They always `
` take out the key before leaving the room." `
` `
` "Indeed. It is near the window, this cupboard?" `
` `
` "No, right the other side of the room. Why?" `
` `
` Poirot shrugged his shoulders. `
` `
` "I wondered. That is all. Will you come in?" `
` `
` We had reached the cottage. `
` `
` "No. I think I'll be getting back. I shall go round the long `
` way through the woods." `
` `
` The woods round Styles were very beautiful. After the walk `
` across the open park, it was pleasant to saunter lazily through `
` the cool glades. There was hardly a breath of wind, the very `
` chirp of the birds was faint and subdued. I strolled on a little `
` way, and finally flung myself down at the foot of a grand old `
` beech-tree. My thoughts of mankind were kindly and charitable. `
` I even forgave Poirot for his absurd secrecy. In fact, I was at `
` peace with the world. Then I yawned. `
` `
` I thought about the crime, and it struck me as being very unreal `
` and far off. `
` `
` I yawned again. `
` `
` Probably, I thought, it really never happened. Of course, it was `
` all a bad dream. The truth of the matter was that it was `
` Lawrence who had murdered Alfred Inglethorp with a croquet `
` mallet. But it was absurd of John to make such a fuss about it, `
` and to go shouting out: "I tell you I won't have it!" `
` `
` I woke up with a start. `
` `
` At once I realized that I was in a very awkward predicament. `
` For, about twelve feet away from me, John and Mary Cavendish were `
` standing facing each other, and they were evidently quarrelling. `
` And, quite as evidently, they were unaware of my vicinity, for `
` before I could move or speak John repeated the words which had `
` aroused me from my dream. `
` `
` "I tell you, Mary, I won't have it." `
` `
` Mary's voice came, cool and liquid: `
` `
` "Have _you_ any right to criticize my actions?" `
` `
` "It will be the talk of the village! My mother was only buried on `
` Saturday, and here you are gadding about with the fellow." `
` `
` "Oh," she shrugged her shoulders, "if it is only village gossip `
` that you mind!" `
` `
` "But it isn't. I've had enough of the fellow hanging about. `
` He's a Polish Jew, anyway." `
` `
` "A tinge of Jewish blood is not a bad thing. It leavens `
` the"--she looked at him--"stolid stupidity of the ordinary `
` Englishman." `
` `
` Fire in her eyes, ice in her voice. I did not wonder that the `
` blood rose to John's face in a crimson tide. `
` `
` "Mary!" `
` `
` "Well?" Her tone did not change. `
` `
` The pleading died out of his voice. `
` `
` "Am I to understand that you will continue to see Bauerstein `
` against my express wishes?" `
` `
` "If I choose." `
` `
` "You defy me?" `
` `
` "No, but I deny your right to criticize my actions. Have _you_ no `
` friends of whom I should disapprove?" `
` `
` John fell back a pace. The colour ebbed slowly from his face. `
` `
` "What do you mean?" he said, in an unsteady voice. `
` `
` "You see!" said Mary quietly. "You _do_ see, don't you, that _you_ `
` have no right to dictate to _me_ as to the choice of my friends?" `
` `
` John glanced at her pleadingly, a stricken look on his face. `
` `
` "No right? Have I _no_ right, Mary?" he said unsteadily. He `
` stretched out his hands. "Mary----" `
` `
` For a moment, I thought she wavered. A softer expression came `
` over her face, then suddenly she turned almost fiercely away. `
` `
` "None!" `
` `
`