“ Mrs. Ferrars was a very wealthy woman,” said Poirot drily. “And the penalty for murder is not a pleasant one.”

“Is there anything else that I can tell you?” inquired Mr. Hammond.

“I thank you, no,” said Poirot, rising. “All my excuses for having deranged you.”

“Not at all, not at all.”

“The word derange,” I remarked, when we were outside again, “is applicable to mental disorder only.”

“Ah!” cried Poirot, “never will my English be quite perfect. A curious language. I should then have said disarranged, n’est-ce pas?”

“Disturbed is the word you had in mind.”