Part 18 (1/2)

”That is excellent, that. In confidence, that is how I get my little effects.”

Then, as Dr. Roberts still looked rather dazed, Poirot said with a smile as he rose to his feet:

”You may at least comprehend this, what you have told me is going to be very

helpful to me in my next interview.”

The doctor rose also.

”I can't see how, but I'll take your work for it,” he said.

They shook hands.

Poirot went down the steps of the doctor's house, and hailed a pa.s.sing taxi. ”111 Cheyne Lane, Chelsea,” he told the driver.

CHAPTER 11

Mrs. Lorrimer

111 Cheyne Lane was a small house of very neat and trim appearance standing in a quiet street. The door was painted black and the steps were particularly well whitened, the bra.s.s of the knocker and handle gleamed in the afternoon sun.

The door was opened by an elderly parlourmaid with an immaculate white cap

and ap.r.o.n.

In answer to Poirot's inquiry she said that her mistress was at home.

She preceded him up the narrow staircase.

”What name, sir?”

”M. Hercule Poirot.”

He was ushered into a drawing-room of the usual L shape. Poirot looked about

him, noting details. Good furniture, well polished, of the old family type. s.h.i.+ny

chintz on the chairs and settees. A few silver photograph frames about in the old fas.h.i.+oned manner. Otherwise an agreeable amount of spe and light, and some

really beautiful chrysanthemums arranged in a tall

Mrs. Lorrimer came forward to meet him. She shook hands without showing

any particular surprise at seeing him, indicated a chair, took one herself and

remarked favourably on the weather.

There was a pause.

”I hope, Madame,” said Hercule Poirot, ”that you will forgive this visit.”