Caroline nodded, and went with Ursula out of the room. The door shut behind them. Poirot dropped down into a chair again.

“So far, so good,” he said. “Things are straightening themselves out.”

“They’re getting to look blacker and blacker against Ralph Paton,” I observed gloomily.

Poirot nodded. “Yes, that is so. But it was to be expected, was it not?”

I looked at him, slightly puzzled by the remark. He was leaning back in the chair, his eyes half closed, the tips of his fingers just touching each other. Suddenly he sighed and shook his head.

“What is it?” I asked.