she adhered strictly to a vegetarian diet. She descanted ecstatically on the delights of nut cutlets (which I am quite sure she has never tasted) and ate a Welsh rarebit with gusto and frequent cutting remarks as to the dangers of “flesh” foods.
Afterwards, when we were sitting in front of the fire and smoking, Caroline attacked Poirot directly.
“Not found Ralph Paton yet?” she asked.
“Where should I find him, mademoiselle?”
“I thought, perhaps, you’d found him in Cranchester,” said Caroline, with intense meaning in her tone.
Poirot looked merely bewildered. “In Cranchester? But why in Cranchester?”
I enlightened him with a touch of malice. “One of our ample staff of private detectives happened to see you in a car on the Cranchester road yesterday,” I explained.
Poirot’s bewilderment vanished. He laughed heartily. “Ah, that! A simple visit to the dentist, c’est tout . My tooth, it aches. I go there. My tooth, it is at once better. I think to return quickly. The dentist, he says no. Better to have it out. I argue. He insists. He has his way! That particular tooth, it will never ache again.”
Caroline collapsed rather like a pricked balloon.
We fell to discussing Ralph Paton.
“A weak nature,” I insisted. “But not a vicious one.”
“Ah!” said Poirot. “But weakness, where does it end?”