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“
Poirot
,
”
I
cried
,
keeping
pace
with
him
as
he
walked
along
the
corridor
,
“
who
on
earth
is
Miss
Robinson
?
”
Poirot
beamed
kindly
on
me
.
“
It
is
that
I
have
arranged
you
a
marriage
,
Hastings
.
”
“
But
,
I
say
—
”
“
Bah
!
”
said
Poirot
,
giving
me
a
friendly
push
over
the
threshold
of
the
door
.
“
Do
you
think
I
wish
to
trumpet
aloud
in
Merlinville
the
name
of
Duveen
?
”
It
was
indeed
Cinderella
who
rose
to
greet
us
.
I
took
her
hands
in
both
of
mine
.
My
eyes
said
the
rest
.
Poirot
cleared
his
throat
.
“
Mes
enfants
,
”
he
said
,
“
for
the
moment
we
have
no
time
for
sentiment
.
There
is
work
ahead
of
us
.
Mademoiselle
,
were
you
able
to
do
what
I
asked
you
?
”
In
response
,
Cinderella
took
from
her
bag
an
object
wrapped
up
in
paper
,
and
handed
it
silently
to
Poirot
.
The
latter
unwrapped
it
.
I
gave
a
start
—
for
it
was
the
aeroplane
dagger
which
I
understood
she
had
cast
into
the
sea
.
Strange
,
how
reluctant
women
always
are
to
destroy
the
most
compromising
of
objects
and
documents
!
