“You think that it was he who blackmailed Mrs. Ferrars?”

“Either that, or⁠—”

“Well?” I said, after waiting a minute or two.

“My friend, I will say this to you⁠—I hope it was he.”

The gravity of his manner, and something indefinable that tinged it, reduced me to silence.

On arrival at The Larches, we were informed that Parker was already there awaiting our return. As we entered the room, the butler rose respectfully.

“Good morning, Parker,” said Poirot pleasantly. “One instant, I pray of you.”

He removed his overcoat and gloves.