5. Mrs. Renauld’s Story

           

           WefoundM.Hautetawaitingusinthehall,andweallproceededupstairstogether,Françoisemarchingaheadtoshowustheway.Poirotwentupinazigzagfashionwhichpuzzledme,untilhewhisperedwithagrimace:

           “NowondertheservantsheardM.Renauldmountingthestairs;notaboardofthembutcreaksfittowakethedead!”

           Attheheadofthestaircase,asmallpassagebranchedoff.

           “Theservants’quarters,”explainedBex.

           Wecontinuedalongacorridor,andFrançoisetappedonthelastdoortotherightofit.

           Afaintvoicebadeusenter,andwepassedintoalargesunnyapartmentlookingouttowardsthesea,whichshowedblueandsparklingaboutaquarterofamiledistant.

           Onacouch,proppedupwithcushions,andattendedbyDr.Durand,layatall,striking-lookingwoman.Shewasmiddle-aged,andheroncedarkhairwasnowalmostentirelysilvered,buttheintensevitalityandstrengthofherpersonalitywouldhavemadeitselffeltanywhere.YouknewatoncethatyouwereinthepresenceofwhattheFrenchcall“unemaitressefemme.”

           Shegreeteduswithadignifiedinclinationofthehead.

           “Praybeseated,monsieurs.”

           Wetookchairs,andthemagistrate’sclerkestablishedhimselfataroundtable.

           “Ihope,madame,”beganM.Hautet,“thatitwillnotdistressyouundulytorelatetouswhatoccurredlastnight?”

           “Notatall,monsieur.Iknowthevalueoftime,ifthesescoundrellyassassinsaretobecaughtandpunished.”

           “Verywell,madame.Itwillfatigueyouless,Ithink,ifIaskyouquestionsandyouconfineyourselftoansweringthem.

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