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“
But
there
,
I
’
m
writing
high
-
flown
nonsense
.
You
love
me
,
and
I
love
you
—
yes
,
love
you
,
love
you
,
love
you
!
“
Your
own
adoring
“
BELLA
.
”
There
was
no
address
or
date
.
Poirot
handed
it
back
with
a
grave
face
.
“
And
the
assumption
is
,
M
.
le
juge
—
?
”
The
examining
magistrate
shrugged
his
shoulders
.
“
Obviously
M
.
Renauld
was
entangled
with
this
Englishwoman
—
Bella
.
He
comes
over
here
,
meets
Madame
Daubreuil
,
and
starts
an
intrigue
with
her
.
He
cools
off
to
the
other
,
and
she
instantly
suspects
something
.
This
letter
contains
a
distinct
threat
.
M
.
Poirot
,
at
first
sight
the
case
seemed
simplicity
itself
.
Jealousy
!
The
fact
that
M
.
Renauld
was
stabbed
in
the
back
seemed
to
point
distinctly
to
its
being
a
woman
’
s
crime
.
”
Poirot
nodded
.
“
The
stab
in
the
back
,
yes
—
but
not
the
grave
!
That
was
laborious
work
,
hard
work
—
no
woman
dug
that
grave
,
monsieur
.
That
was
a
man
’
s
doing
.
”
