124
Agatha Christie
"I had to. Besides, I didn't want you to know it
was me."
"Ah, but I was fairly sure of that! Not at first.
But I soon realized that the only two people Who
could know about the yellow irises on the table
were you or Mr. Barton Russell."
Pauline nodded.
"I heard him ordering them to be put on the
table," she explained. "That, and his ordering a
table for six when I knew only five were coming,
made me suspectw''
She stopped, biting her lip.
"What did you suspect, Mademoiselle?"
She said slowly:
"I was afraid--of something haPpening-..to
Mr. Carter."
Stephen Carter cleared his throat. Unhurrielly
but quite decisively he rose from the table.
"Er--h'm--I have to--er--thank you, IMr'
Poirot. I owe you a great deal. You'll excuse
I'm sure, if I leave you. Tonight's happenings
have beenwrather upsetting."
Looking after his retreating figure, Pauline Said
violently:
"I hate him. I've always thought it was
because
of him that Iris killed herself. Or perhaps
--Barton killed her. Oh, it's all so hateful ,,