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“
There
are
other
women
in
the
world
who
suffer
,
Hastings
.
”
The
writing
was
blurred
and
the
note
had
evidently
been
written
in
great
agitation
:
“
Dear
M
.
Poirot
:
“
If
you
get
this
,
I
beg
of
you
to
come
to
my
aid
.
I
have
no
one
to
turn
to
,
and
at
all
costs
Jack
must
be
saved
.
I
implore
of
you
on
my
knees
to
help
us
.
“
MARTHE
DAUBREUIL
.
”
I
handed
it
back
,
moved
.
“
You
will
go
?
”
“
At
once
.
We
will
command
an
auto
.
”
Half
an
hour
later
saw
us
at
the
Villa
Marguerite
.
Marthe
was
at
the
door
to
meet
us
,
and
led
Poirot
in
,
clinging
with
both
hands
to
one
of
his
.
“
Ah
,
you
have
come
—
it
is
good
of
you
.
I
have
been
in
despair
,
not
knowing
what
to
do
.
They
will
not
let
me
go
to
see
him
in
prison
even
.
I
suffer
horribly
,
I
am
nearly
mad
.
Is
it
true
what
they
say
,
that
he
does
not
deny
the
crime
?
But
that
is
madness
.
It
is
impossible
that
he
should
have
done
it
!
Never
for
one
minute
will
I
believe
it
.
”
