murmured.

 

He was not looking at Blunt, but I was, and to my intense surprise, I saw the

latter flush.

 

“Went as far as the corner,” he explained unwillingly.

 

“Ah! indeed?” said Poirot.

 

In the mildest manner he conveyed an impression that more was wanted.

 

“Thought I saw—a woman disappearing into the bushes. Just a gleam of white, you

know. Must have been mistaken. It was while I was standing at the corner of the

terrace that I heard Ackroyd’s voice speaking to that secretary of his.”

 

“Speaking to Mr. Geoffrey Raymond?”

 

“Yes—that’s what I supposed at the time. Seems I was wrong.”

 

“Mr. Ackroyd didn’t address him by name?”

 

“Oh, no.”

 

“Then, if I may ask, why did you think——?”