“Was it all right about the boots?” asked Miss Gannett. “Their being black, I mean?”
“Quite all right,” said Caroline.
“What was the point, do you think?” asked Miss Gannett.
Caroline pursed up her lips, and shook her head with an air of knowing all about it.
“Pung,” said Miss Gannett. “No—Unpung. I suppose that now the doctor’s in with M. Poirot he knows all the secrets?”
“Far from it,” I said.
“James is so modest,” said Caroline. “Ah! A concealed Kong.”
The colonel gave vent to a whistle. For the moment gossip was forgotten.
“Your own Wind, too,” he said. “ And you’ve got two Pungs of Dragons. We must be careful. Miss Caroline’s out for a big hand.”
We played for some minutes with no irrelevant conversation.
“This M. Poirot now,” said Colonel Carter, “is he really such a great detective?”
“The greatest the world has ever known,” said Caroline solemnly. “He had to come here incognito to avoid publicity.”
“Chow,” said Miss Gannett. “Quite wonderful for our little village, I’m sure. By the way, Clara—my maid, you know—is great friends with Elsie, the housemaid at Fernly, and what do you think Elsie told her? That there’s been a lot of money stolen, and it’s her opinion—Elsie’s—I mean, that the parlour maid had something to do with it. She’s leaving at the month, and she’s crying a good deal at night. If you ask me, the girl is