“Well?”

“Well, he did, sir.”

“And what happened next?”

“We went on with the begonias, sir.”

“Did not Mrs. Inglethorp call you again?”

“Yes, sir, both me and Willum, she called.”

“And then?”

“She made us come right in, and sign our names at the bottom of a long paper⁠—under where she’d signed.”

“Did you see anything of what was written above her signature?” asked Poirot sharply.

“No, sir, there was a bit of blotting paper over that part.”