28. Journey’s End

           

           Ihaveconfusedmemoriesofthefurthereventsofthatnight.Poirotseemeddeaftomyrepeatedquestions.HewasengagedinoverwhelmingFrançoisewithreproachesfornothavingtoldhimofMrs.Renauld’schangeofsleepingquarters.

           Icaughthimbytheshoulder,determinedtoattracthisattention,andmakemyselfheard.

           “Butyoumusthaveknown,”Iexpostulated.“Youweretakenuptoseeherthisafternoon.”

           Poirotdeignedtoattendtomeforabriefmoment.

           “Shehadbeenwheeledonasofaintothemiddleroom—herboudoir,”heexplained.

           “But,monsieur,”criedFrançoise,“Madamechangedherroomalmostimmediatelyafterthecrime!Theassociations—theyweretoodistressing!”

           “ThenwhywasInottold,”vociferatedPoirot,strikingthetable,andworkinghimselfintoafirst-classpassion.“Idemandyou—why—was—I—not—told?Youareanoldwomancompletelyimbecile!AndLéonieandDenisearenobetter.Allofyouaretripleidiots!Yourstupidityhasnearlycausedthedeathofyourmistress.Butforthiscourageouschild—”

           Hebrokeoff,and,dartingacrosstheroomtowherethegirlwasbendingoverministeringtoMrs.Renauld,heembracedherwithGallicfervour—slightlytomyannoyance.

           IwasarousedfrommyconditionofmentalfogbyasharpcommandfromPoirottofetchthedoctorimmediatelyonMrs.Renauld’sbehalf.Afterthat,Imightsummonthepolice.Andheadded,tocompletemydudgeon:

           “Itwillhardlybeworthyourwhiletoreturnhere.Ishallbetoobusytoattendtoyou,andofMademoisellehereImakeagarde-malad.

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