"Good for you, old boy. Some dirty work at the
cross-roads--eh?"
Poirot merely repeated that he would set forth
immediately.
"Don't want to spill the beans over the telc-phone?
Quite right. So long."
A quarter of an hour later Poirot was sitting in the library, a low long room at the back of North
I
THE DREAM
159
ยท way House on the ground floor. There were five
other persons in the room. Inspector Barnett, Dr.
Stillingfleet, Mrs. Farley, the widow of the millionaire,
Joanna Farley, his only daughter, and
Hugo Cornworthy, his private secretary.
Of these, Inspector Barnett was a discreet sol-dierly-looking
man. Dr. Stillingfleet, whose professional
manner was entirely different from his
telephonic style, was a tall, long-faced young man
of thirty. Mrs. Farley was obviously very much
younger than her husband. She was a handsome
dark-haired woman. Her mouth was hard and her
black eyes gave absolutely no clue to her emotions.
She appeared perfectly self-possessed. Joanna
Farley had fair hair and a freckled face. The
prominence of her nose and chin was clearly inherited
from her father. Her eyes were intelligent and
shrewd. Hugo Cornworthy was a somewhat colorless
young man, very correctly dressed. He seemed
intelligent and efficient.