“My ideas may be absurd—they may be entirely different from yours, but—”
“Yes?”
“Tell me, does this help you at all?”
He took a newspaper cutting from her outstretched hand. He read it and, looking up, he nodded gravely.
“As I told you, Mademoiselle, one stands at a different angle for looking into the mirror, but it is the same mirror and the same things are reflected there.”
Katherine got up. “I must rush,” she said. “I have only just time to catch my train. Monsieur Poirot—”
“Yes, Mademoiselle.”
“It—it mustn’t be much longer, you understand. I—I can’t go on much longer.”
There was a break in her voice.
He patted her hand reassuringly.
“Courage, Mademoiselle, you must not fail now; the end is very near.”