“ M. Poirot! M. Poirot! Oh, do believe me.”

Poirot got up and came to her. He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder.

“But yes⁠—but yes, I will believe. I had to make you speak, you know.”

For an instant suspicion flared up in her.

“Is what you said true?”

“That Charles Kent is suspected of the crime? Yes, that is true. You alone can save him, by telling the reason for his being at Fernly.”

“He came to see me.” She spoke in a low, hurried voice. “I went out to meet him⁠—”

“In the summerhouse, yes, I know.”