Twenty-five
MRS. LORRIMER SPEAKS
The day was not a bright one, and Mrs. Lorrimer’s room seemed rather dark and cheerless. She herself had a grey look, and seemed much older than she had done on the occasion of Poirot’s last visit.
She greeted him with her usual smiling assurance.
“It is very nice of you to come so promptly, M. Poirot. You are a busy man, I know.”
“At your service, madame,” said Poirot with a little bow.
Mrs. Lorrimer pressed the bell by the fireplace.
“We will have tea brought in. I don’t know what you feel about it, but I always think it’s a mistake to rush straight into confidences without any decent paving of the way.”
“There are to be confidences, then, madame?”
Mrs. Lorrimer did not answer, for at that moment her maid answered the bell. When she had received the order and gone again, Mrs. Lorrimer said dryly:
“You said, if you remember, when you were last here, that you would come if I sent for you. You had an idea, I think, of the reason that should prompt me to send.”
There was no more just then. Tea was brought. Mrs. Lorrimer dispensed it, talking intelligently on various topics of the day.
Taking advantage of a pause, Poirot remarked:
“I hear you and little Mademoiselle Meredith had tea together the other day.”
“We did. Have you seen her lately?”
“This very afternoon.”
“She is in London, then, or have you been down to Wallingford?”
“No. She and her friend were so amiable as to pay me a visit.”
“Ah, the friend. I have not met her.”
Poirot said, smiling a little:
“This murder—it has made for me a rapprochement. You and Mademoiselle Meredith have tea together. Major Despard, he, too, cultivates Miss Meredith’s acquaintance. The Dr. Roberts, he is perhaps the only one out of it.”
“I saw him out at bridge the other day,” said Mrs. Lorrimer. “He seemed quite his usual cheerful self.”
“As fond of bridge as ever?”
“Yes—still making the most outrageous bids—and very often getting away with it.”
She was silent for a moment or two, then said:
“Have you seen Superintendent Battle lately?”
“Also this afternoon. He was with me when you telephoned.”
Shading her face from the fire with one hand, Mrs. Lorrimer a
sked:
“How is he getting on?”