borrow a few pounds, didn’t like to disturb her uncle since he’d given strict

orders against it, but knowing where he kept his notes she went there and took

what she needed.”

 

“Is that Flora’s account of the matter?” I asked.

 

“My dear doctor, you know what girls are nowadays. So easily acted on by

suggestion. You, of course, know all about hypnosis and that sort of thing. The

inspector shouts at her, says the word ‘steal’ over and over again, until the

poor child gets an inhibition—or is it a complex?—I always mix up those two

words—and actually thinks herself that she has stolen the money. I saw at once

how it was. But I can’t be too thankful for the whole misunderstanding in one

way—it seems to have brought those two together—Hector and Flora, I mean. And I

assure you that I have been very much worried about Flora in the past: why, at

one time I actually thought there was going to be some kind of understanding

between her and young Raymond. Just think of it!” Mrs. Ackroyd’s voice rose in

shrill horror. “A private secretary—with practically no means of his own.”

 

“It would have been a severe blow to you,” I said. “Now, Mrs. Ackroyd, I’ve got

a message for you from M. Hercule Poirot.”

 

“For me?”

 

Mrs. Ackroyd looked quite alarmed.