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“
I
wondered
.
That
is
all
.
Will
you
come
in
?
”
We
had
reached
the
cottage
.
“
No
.
I
think
I
’
ll
be
getting
back
.
I
shall
go
round
the
long
way
through
the
woods
.
”
The
woods
round
Styles
were
very
beautiful
.
After
the
walk
across
the
open
park
,
it
was
pleasant
to
saunter
lazily
through
the
cool
glades
.
There
was
hardly
a
breath
of
wind
,
the
very
chirp
of
the
birds
was
faint
and
subdued
.
I
strolled
on
a
little
way
,
and
finally
flung
myself
down
at
the
foot
of
a
grand
old
beech
-
tree
.
My
thoughts
of
mankind
were
kindly
and
charitable
.
I
even
forgave
Poirot
for
his
absurd
secrecy
.
In
fact
,
I
was
at
peace
with
the
world
.
Then
I
yawned
.
I
thought
about
the
crime
,
and
it
struck
me
as
being
very
unreal
and
far
off
.
I
yawned
again
.
Probably
,
I
thought
,
it
really
never
happened
.
Of
course
,
it
was
all
a
bad
dream
.
The
truth
of
the
matter
was
that
it
was
Lawrence
who
had
murdered
Alfred
Inglethorp
with
a
croquet
mallet
.
But
it
was
absurd
of
John
to
make
such
a
fuss
about
it
,
and
to
go
shouting
out
:
“
I
tell
you
I
won
’
t
have
it
!
”
I
woke
up
with
a
start
.
At
once
I
realized
that
I
was
in
a
very
awkward
predicament
.
For
,
about
twelve
feet
away
from
me
,
John
and
Mary
Cavendish
were
standing
facing
each
other
,
and
they
were
evidently
quarrelling
.
And
,
quite
as
evidently
,
they
were
unaware
of
my
vicinity
,
for
before
I
could
move
or
speak
John
repeated
the
words
which
had
aroused
me
from
my
dream
.
“
I
tell
you
,
Mary
,
I
won
’
t
have
it
.
