“Oh! you are a comforting person….”
Peter Lord said rather incoherently:
“Not at all. Just common sense.”
Elinor said, and there were suddenly tears in her eyes:
“Every now and then—in court—I looked at you. It gave me courage. You looked so—so ordinary.”
Then she laughed. “That’s rude!”
He said:
“I understand. When you’re in the middle of a nightmare something ordinary is the only hope. Anyway, ordinary things are the best, I’ve always thought so.”
For the first time since she had entered the car she turned her head and looked at him.
The sight of his face didn’t hurt her as Roddy’s face always hurt her; it gave her no sharp pang of pain and pleasure mixed; instead, it made her feel warm and comforted.
She thought:
“How nice his face is…nice and funny—and, yes, comforting….”
They drove on.
They came at last to a gateway and a drive that wound upwards till it reached a quiet white house on the side of a hill.
He said:
“You’ll be quite safe here. No one will bother you.”
Impulsively she laid her hand on his arm.
She said:
“You—you’ll come and see me?”
“Of course.”
“Often?”
Peter Lord said:
“As often as you want me.”
She said:
“Please come—very often….”
Six
Hercule Poirot said:
“So you see, my friend, the lies people tell are just as useful as the truth?”
Peter Lord said:
“Did everyone tell you lies?”