And pretty maids all in a row.
Only they are not cockle shells, are they, madame?
They are oyster shells." His hand pointed.
He heard her catch her breath and then stay
very still. Her eyes asked a question.
He nodded. "Mais, oui, I know! The maid left
the dinner ready--she will swear and Katrina will
swear that that is all you had. Only you and your
husband know that you brought back a dozen and
a half oysters--a little treat pour la bonne tante.
So easy to put the strychnine in an oyster. It is
swallowed--comme qa.t But there remain the
shells--they must not go in the bucket. The maid
would see them. And so you thought of making an
edging of them to a bed. But there were not
enough--the edging is not complete. The effect is
bad--it spoils the symmetry of the otherwise
charming garden. Those few oyster shells struck
an alien note--they displeased my eye on my first
visit."
Mary Delafontaine said, "I suppose you
guessed from the letter.' I knew she had written
--but I didn't know how much she'd said."
Poirot answered evasively, "I knew at least that
76
Agatha Christie
it was a family matter. If it had been a question of
Katrina there would have been no point in hushing
things up. I understand that you or your husband
handled Miss Barrowby's securities to your own