Убийство на поле для гольфа
5. Mrs. Renauld’s Story
“Ihopedhemighthavebeennearathand,sothatwecouldhavesavedyoupain,madame.”Hepaused.
“Youmean,”shesaidinalowvoice,“theidentificationofmyhusband’sbody?”
Themagistratebowedhishead.
“Iamastrongwoman,monsieur.Icanbearallthatisrequiredofme.Iamready—now.”
“Oh,tomorrowwillbequitesoonenough,Iassureyou—”
“Iprefertogetitover,”shesaidinalowtone,aspasmofpaincrossingherface.“Ifyouwillbesogoodastogivemeyourarm,Doctor?”
Thedoctorhastenedforward,acloakwasthrownoverMrs.Renauld’sshoulders,andaslowprocessionwentdownthestairs.M.Bexhurriedonaheadtoopenthedooroftheshed.InaminuteortwoMrs.Renauldappearedinthedoorway.Shewasverypale,butresolute.Behindher,M.Hautetwasclackingcommiserationsandapologieslikeananimatedhen.
Sheraisedherhandtoherface.
“Amoment,messieurs,whileIsteelmyself.”
Shetookherhandawayandlookeddownatthedeadman.Thenthemarvellousself-controlwhichhadupheldhersofardesertedher.
“Paul!”shecried.“Husband!Oh,God!”Andpitchingforwardshefellunconscioustotheground.
InstantlyPoirotwasbesideher,heraisedthelidofhereye,feltherpulse.Whenhehadsatisfiedhimselfthatshehadreallyfainted,hedrewaside.Hecaughtmebythearm.
“Iamanimbecile,myfriend!Ifevertherewasloveandgriefinawoman’svoice,Ihearditthen.Mylittleideawasallwrong.Ehbien!Imuststartagain!”
