After The Funeral Part 46

"No--no, I shouldn't think so." Rosamund was vague.

She apologised. "I'm sorry. I was thinking about what lighting would be right for the table."

"You see ?" said George. "A woman of one idea. Your

wife's a dangerous woman, Michael. I hope you realise it."

"I realise it," said Michael rather grimly.

George went on with every appearance of enioyment.

"The Battle of the Table l To be fought to-morrow--politely--but with grim determination: We ought all to take sides. I back Rosamund who looks so sweet and yielding and isn't. Husbands, presumably back their own wives. Miss Gilchrist ? On Susan's side, obviously."

"Oh, really, Mr. Crossfield, I wouldn't venture to----"

"Aunt Helen ?" George paid no attention to Miss Gilchrist's flutterings. "You have the casting vote. Oh, er --I forgot. M. Pontarlier ?"

"Pardon ?" Hercule Poirot looked blank.

George considered explanations, but decided against it.

The poor old boy hadn't understood a word of what was going on. He said: "Just a family joke."

"Yes, yes, I comprehend." Poirot smiled amiably.

"So yours is the casting vote, Aunt Helen. Whose side are you on ?"

Helen smiled.

"Perhaps I want it myself, George."

She changed the subject deliberately, turning to her foreign guest.

"I'm afraid this is all very dull for you, M. Pontarlier ?"

"Not at all, Madame. I consider myself privileged to be admitted to your family life--" he bowed. "I would like to say--I cannot quite express my meaning--my regret that this house had to pa.s.s out of your hands into the hands of strangers. It is without doubt--a great sorrow."

"No, indeed, we don't regret at all," Susan a.s.sured him.

"You are very amiable, Madame. It will be, let me tell you, perfection here for my elderly sufferers of persecution.

What a haven I What peace I beg you to remember that,

x48

when the harsh feelings come to you as a.s.suredly they must.

I hear that there was also the question of a school coming

here---not a regular school, a conventwrun by religeuses--by

'nuns,' I think you say ? You would have preferred that.

perhaps ?"

"Not at all," said George.

"The Sacred Heart of Mary," continued Poirot. "For tunately, owing to the kindness of an unknown benefactor

we were able to make a slightly higher offer." He addressed

Miss Gilckrist directly. "You do not like nuns, I think ?"

Miss Gilchrist flushed and looked embarra.s.sed.

, "Oh, really, Mr. Pontarlier, you mustn't--I mean, it's nothing personal. But I never do see that it's right to shut yourself up from the world in that way--not necessary, I mean, and really almost selfish, though not teaching ones, of course, or the ones that go about amongst the poor--because I'm sure they're thoroughly unselfish women and do a lot of good."

"I simply can't imagine wanting to be a nun," said Susan. "It's very becoming," said Rosamund. "You remember --when they revived The Miracle last year.

Sonia Wells looked absolutely too glamorous for words."

"What beats me," said George, "is why it should be

pleasing to the Almighty to dress oneself up in medieval dress.

For after all, that's all a nun's dress is. Thoroughly c.u.mber some, unhygienic and impractical."

"And it makes them look so alike, doesn't it ?" said Miss

Gilchrist. "It's silly, you know, but I got quite a turn when

I was at Mrs. Abernethie's and a nun came to the door,

collecting. I got it into my head she was the same as a nun

who came to the door on the day of the inquest on poor Mrs.

Lansquenet at Lychett St. Mary. I felt, you know, almost as

though she had been following me round I"

"I thought nuns always collected in couples," said George.

"Surely a detective story hinged on that point once ?"

"There was only one this time," said Miss Gilchrist.

"Perhaps they've got to economise," she added vaguely.

"And anyway it couldn't have been the same nun, for the other one was collecting for an organ for St.--Barnabas, I

think--and this one was for something quite different--some thing to do with children."

"But they both had the same type of features ?" Hercule

Poirot asked. He sounded interested. Miss Gilchrist turned

to him.

"I suppose that must be it. The upper lip--almost as

though she had a moustache. I think you know, that that is