adventuresses——”

 

She left the sentence unfinished.

 

“Well?” I said, with some curiosity.

 

“Nothing. But I can think of some one not a hundred miles away.”

 

Then she turned to Poirot suddenly.

 

“James sticks to it that you believe some one in the house committed the murder.

All I can say is, you’re wrong.”

 

“I should not like to be wrong,” said Poirot. “It is not—how do you say—my

_métier_?”

 

“I’ve got the facts pretty clearly,” continued Caroline, taking no notice of

Poirot’s remark, “from James and others. As far as I can see, of the people in

the house, only two _could_ have had the chance of doing it. Ralph Paton and

Flora Ackroyd.”

 

“My dear Caroline——”

 

“Now, James, don’t interrupt me. I know what I’m talking about. Parker met her

_outside_ the door, didn’t he? He didn’t hear her uncle saying good-night to