The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories (Hercule Poirot 21)

fee."

"I shall not fail to do so," said the detective

dryly. He walked towards the door.

"Stop a minute." The millionaire called him

back. "That letter--I want it."

"The letter from your secretary?"

"Yes."

Poirot's eyebrows rose. He Put his hand into his

pocket, drew out a folded sheet, and handed it to

the old man. The latter scrutinized it, then put it

down on the table beside him with a nod.

Once more Hercule Poirot walked to the door.

He was puzzled. His busy mind was going over

and over the story he had been told. Yet in the

midst of his mental preoccupation, a nagging

sense of something wrong obtruded itself And

that something had to do with himself--not with

Benedict Farley.

With his hand on the door knob, his mind

cleared. He, Hercule Poirot, had been guilty of an

error! He turned back into the room once more.

"A thousand pardons! In the interest of your

problem I have committed a folly! That letter I

handed to you--by mischance I put my hand into

my right-hand pocket instead of the left--"

THE DREAM

157

"What's all this? What's all this?"

"The letter that I handed you just now--an

apology from my laundress concerning the treat-ment