The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories (Hercule Poirot 21)

card in hand, she departed to summon her

mistress.

Hercule Poirot looked round him. The room

was a perfectly conventional drawing room--oatmeal-colored

paper with a frieze round the top, indeterminate

cretonnes, rose-colored cushions and

curtains, a good many china knick-knacks and ornaments.

There was nothing in the room that

stood out, that announced a definite personality.

Suddenly Poirot, who was very sensitive, felt

eyes watching him. He wheeled round. A girl was

standing in the entrance of the French window--a

small, sallow girl, with very black hair and suspicious

eyes.

She came in, and as Poirot made a little bow she

burst out abruptly, "Why have you come?"

Poirot did not reply. He merely raised his eyebrows.

"You are not a lawyer--no?" Her English was

HOW DOES YOUR GARDEN GROW?

good, but not for a minute would anyone have

taken her to be English.

"Why should I be a lawyer, mademoiselle?"

The girl stared at him sullenly. "I thought you

might be. I thought you had come perhaps to say

that she did not know what she was doing. I have

heard of such things--the not due influence; that

is what they call it, no? But that is not right. She

wanted me to have the money, and I shall have it.

If it is needful I shall have a lawyer of my own.