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Poirot
stayed
behind
.
I
stopped
to
examine
a
late
rose
.
"
How
things
change
in
the
course
of
a
day
or
two
,
"
I
observed
.
"
I
was
up
here
last
Wednesday
,
I
remember
,
walking
up
and
down
this
same
terrace
.
Ackroyd
was
with
me
–
full
of
spirits
.
And
now
–
three
days
later
–
Ackroyd
’
s
dead
,
poor
fellow
.
Mrs
.
Ferrars
dead
~
you
knew
her
,
didn
’
t
you
?
But
of
course
you
did
.
"
Blunt
nodded
his
head
.
"
Had
you
seen
her
since
you
’
d
been
down
this
time
?
"
"
Went
with
Ackroyd
to
call
.
Last
Tuesday
,
think
it
was
.
Fascinating
woman
–
but
something
queer
about
her
.
Deep
–
one
would
never
know
what
she
was
up
to
.
"
I
looked
into
his
steady
grey
eyes
.
Nothing
there
surely
.
I
went
on
:
"
I
suppose
you
’
d
met
her
before
?
"
"
Last
time
I
was
here
–
she
and
her
husband
had
just
come
here
to
live
.
"
He
paused
a
minute
and
then
added
:
"
Rum
thing
,
she
had
changed
a
lot
between
then
and
now
.
"
"
How
–
changed
?
"
I
asked
.
"
Looked
ten
years
older
.
"
"
Were
you
down
here
when
her
husband
died
?
"
I
asked
,
trying
to
make
the
question
sound
as
casual
as
possible
.
"
No
.
From
all
I
heard
it
would
be
good
riddance
.
Uncharitable
,
perhaps
,
but
the
truth
.
"
I
agreed
.
"
Ashley
Ferrars
was
by
no
means
a
pattern
husband
,
"
I
said
cautiously
.
"
Blackguard
,
I
thought
,
"
said
Blunt
.
"
No
,
"
I
said
,
"
only
a
man
with
more
money
than
was
good
for
him
.
"
"
Oh
!
money
!
All
the
troubles
in
the
world
can
be
put
down
to
money
–
or
the
lack
of
it
.
"
"
Which
has
been
your
particular
trouble
?
"
I
asked
.
