We went out, leaving Caroline, rather like a dog who has been refused a walk,

standing on the front door step gazing after us.

 

The sitting-room at The Larches had been got ready. On the table were various

_sirops_ and glasses. Also a plate of biscuits. Several chairs had been brought

in from the other room.

 

Poirot ran to and fro rearranging things. Pulling out a chair here, altering the

position of a lamp there, occasionally stooping to straighten one of the mats

that covered the floor. He was specially fussy over the lighting. The lamps were

arranged in such a way as to throw a clear light on the side of the room where

the chairs were grouped, at the same time leaving the other end of the room,

where I presumed Poirot himself would sit, in a dim twilight.

 

Ursula and I watched him. Presently a bell was heard.

 

“They arrive,” said Poirot. “Good, all is in readiness.”

 

The door opened and the party from Fernly filed in. Poirot went forward and

greeted Mrs. Ackroyd and Flora.

 

“It is most good of you to come,” he said. “And Major Blunt and Mr.

 

Raymond.”