“How did I come to start, do you mean? Oh, I don’t know. Boredom—laziness—the fun of the thing. Such a much more attractive way of earning a living than just pegging away at a job. Sounds pretty sordid to you, I expect, but you know there was an attraction about it—mainly the risk, I suppose.”
“I think I understand.”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t ever do it.”
Rosalie considered for a moment or two, her grave young head bent.
“No,” she said simply. “I wouldn’t.”
He said: “Oh, my dear—you’re so lovely…so utterly lovely. Why wouldn’t you say you’d seen me last night?”
“I thought—they might suspect you,” Rosalie said.
“Did you suspect me?”
“No. I couldn’t believe that you’d kill anyone.”
“No. I’m not the strong stuff murderers are made of. I’m only a miserable sneak-thief.”
She put out a timid hand and touched his arm.
“Don’t say that.”
He caught her hand in his.
“Rosalie, would you—you know what I mean? Or would you always despise me and throw it in my teeth?”
She smiled faintly. “There are things you could throw in my teeth, too….”
“Rosalie—darling….”
But she held back a minute longer.
“This—Joanna?”
Tim gave a sudden shout.
“Joanna? You’re as bad as Mother. I don’t care a damn about Joanna. She’s got a face like a horse and a predatory eye. A most unattractive female.”
Presently Rosalie said: “Your mother need never know about you.”
“I’m not sure,” Tim said thoughtfully. “I think I shall tell her. Mother’s got plenty of stuffing, you know. She can stand up to things. Yes, I think I shall shatter her maternal illusions about me. She’ll be so relieved to know that my relations with Joanna were purely of a business nature that she’ll forgive me everything else.”
They had come to Mrs. Allerton’s cabin and Tim knocked firmly on the door. It opened and Mrs. Allerton stood on the threshold.
“Rosalie and I—” began Tim. He paused.
“Oh, my dears,” said Mrs. Allerton. She folded Rosalie in her arms. “My dear, dear child. I always hoped—but Tim was so tiresome—and pretended he didn’t like you. But of course I saw through that!”
Rosalie said in a broken voice: “You’ve been so sweet to me—always. I used to wish—to wish—”
She broke off and sobbed happily on Mrs. Allerton’s shoulder.
Twenty-Eight
As the door closed behind Tim and Rosalie, Poirot looked somewhat apologetically at Colonel Race. The Colonel was looking rather grim.
“You will consent to my little arrangement, yes?” Poirot pleaded. “It is irregular—I know it is irregular, yes—but I have a high regard for human happiness.”