The girl rose and stood facing him.

“ M. Poirot,” she said in a clear voice, “I swear to you⁠—swear solemnly⁠—that I have no idea where Ralph is, and that I have neither seen him nor heard from him either on the day of⁠—of the murder, or since.”

She sat down again. Poirot gazed at her in silence for a minute or two, then he brought his hand down on the table with a sharp rap.