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“
One
little
moment
,
my
friend
.
”
Dexterously
,
he
whipped
out
his
yard
measure
,
and
proceeded
,
quite
solemnly
,
to
measure
an
overcoat
hanging
in
the
hall
from
the
collar
to
the
hem
.
I
had
not
seen
it
hanging
there
before
,
and
guessed
that
it
belonged
to
either
Mr
.
Stonor
,
or
Jack
Renauld
.
Then
,
with
a
little
satisfied
grunt
,
Poirot
returned
the
measure
to
his
pocket
,
and
followed
me
out
into
the
open
air
.
“
Why
did
you
measure
that
overcoat
?
”
I
asked
,
with
some
curiosity
,
as
we
walked
down
the
hot
white
road
at
a
leisurely
pace
.
“
Parbleu
!
to
see
how
long
it
was
,
”
replied
my
friend
imperturbably
.
I
was
vexed
.
Poirot
’
s
incurable
habit
of
making
a
mystery
out
of
nothing
never
failed
to
irritate
me
.
I
relapsed
into
silence
,
and
followed
a
train
of
thought
of
my
own
.
Although
I
had
not
noticed
them
specially
at
the
time
,
certain
words
Mrs
.
Renauld
had
addressed
to
her
son
now
recurred
to
me
,
fraught
with
a
new
significance
.
“
So
you
did
not
sail
?
”
she
had
said
,
and
then
had
added
:
“
After
all
,
it
does
not
matter
—
now
.
”
What
had
she
meant
by
that
?
The
words
were
enigmatical
—
significant
.
Was
it
possible
that
she
knew
more
than
we
supposed
?
She
had
denied
all
knowledge
of
the
mysterious
mission
with
which
her
husband
was
to
have
entrusted
his
son
.
But
was
she
really
less
ignorant
than
she
pretended
?
Could
she
enlighten
us
if
she
chose
,
and
was
her
silence
part
of
a
carefully
thought
out
and
preconceived
plan
?
The
more
I
thought
about
it
,
the
more
I
was
convinced
that
I
was
right
.
Mrs
.
Renauld
knew
more
than
she
chose
to
tell
.
In
her
surprise
at
seeing
her
son
,
she
had
momentarily
betrayed
herself
.
I
felt
convinced
that
she
knew
,
if
not
the
assassins
,
at
least
the
motive
for
the
assassination
.
But
some
very
powerful
considerations
must
keep
her
silent
.
“
You
think
profoundly
,
my
friend
,
”
remarked
Poirot
,
breaking
in
upon
my
reflections
.
“
What
is
it
that
intrigues
you
so
?
”
I
told
him
,
sure
of
my
ground
,
though
feeling
expectant
that
he
would
ridicule
my
suspicions
.
But
to
my
surprise
he
nodded
thoughtfully
.
“
You
are
quite
right
,
Hastings
.
From
the
beginning
I
have
been
sure
that
she
was
keeping
something
back
.
At
first
I
suspected
her
,
if
not
of
inspiring
,
at
least
of
conniving
at
the
crime
.
”
