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I
was
moving
off
towards
the
house
again
when
he
suddenly
called
me
back
.
“
I
say
,
what
was
the
end
of
that
message
?
Say
it
over
again
,
will
you
?
”
“
‘
Find
the
extra
coffee
-
cup
,
and
you
can
rest
in
peace
.
’
Are
you
sure
you
don
’
t
know
what
it
means
?
”
I
asked
him
earnestly
.
He
shook
his
head
.
“
No
,
”
he
said
musingly
,
“
I
don
’
t
.
I
—
I
wish
I
did
.
”
The
boom
of
the
gong
sounded
from
the
house
,
and
we
went
in
together
.
Poirot
had
been
asked
by
John
to
remain
to
lunch
,
and
was
already
seated
at
the
table
.
By
tacit
consent
,
all
mention
of
the
tragedy
was
barred
.
We
conversed
on
the
war
,
and
other
outside
topics
.
But
after
the
cheese
and
biscuits
had
been
handed
round
,
and
Dorcas
had
left
the
room
,
Poirot
suddenly
leant
forward
to
Mrs
.
Cavendish
.
“
Pardon
me
,
madame
,
for
recalling
unpleasant
memories
,
but
I
have
a
little
idea
”
—
Poirot
’
s
“
little
ideas
”
were
becoming
a
perfect
byword
—
“
and
would
like
to
ask
one
or
two
questions
.
”
“
Of
me
?
Certainly
.
”
