Hercule Poirot's Christmas: A Hercule Poirot Mystery (Hercule Poirot 20) - Page 97

Pilar said thoughtfully: ‘He might have left me some money, but I am afraid that perhaps he did not.’

Stephen said kindly:

‘You’ll be all right. After all, you’re one of the family. You belong here. They’ll have to look after you.’

Pilar said with a sigh: ‘I—belong here. It is very funny, that. And yet it is not funny at all.’

‘I can see that you mightn’t find it very humorous.’

Pilar sighed again. She said:

‘Do you think if we put on the gramophone, we could dance?’

Stephen said dubiously:

‘It wouldn’t look any too good. This is a house of mourning, you callous Spanish baggage.’

Pilar said, her big eyes opening very wide:

‘But I do not feel sad at all. Because I did not really know my grandfather, and though I liked to talk to him, I do not want to cry and be unhappy because he is dead. It is very silly to pretend.’

Stephen said: ‘You’re adorable!’

Pilar said coaxingly:

‘We could put some stockings and some gloves in the gramophone, and then it would not make much noise, and no one would hear.’

‘Come along then, temptress.’

She laughed happily and ran out of the room, going along towards the ballroom at the far end of the house.

Then, as she reached the side passage which led to the garden door, she stopped dead. Stephen caught up with her and stopped also.

Hercule Poirot had unhooked a portrait from the wall and was studying it by the light from the terrace. He looked up and saw them.

‘Aha!’ he said. ‘You arrive at an opportune moment.’

Pilar said: ‘What are you doing?’

She came and stood beside him.

Poirot said gravely:

‘I am studying something very important, the face of Simeon Lee when he was a young man.’

‘Oh, is that my grandfather?’

‘Yes, mademoiselle.’

She stared at the painted face. She said slowly:

‘How different—how very different…He was so old, so shrivelled up. Here he is like Harry, like Harry might have been ten years ago.’

Hercule Poirot nodded.

‘Yes, mademoiselle. Harry Lee is very much the son of his father. Now here—’ He led her a little way along the gallery. ‘Here is madame, your grandmother—a long gentle face, very blonde hair, mild blue eyes.’

Pilar said:

Tags: Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot Mystery
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