recently done; is it not so?"

"Yes, I believe they were at it yesterday afternoon. But come
in--Dorcas is here."

"Eh bien, eh bien! Do not grudge me a moment's satisfaction of
the eye."

"Yes, but this affair is more important."

"And how do you know that these fine begonias are not of equal
importance?"

I shrugged my shoulders. There was really no arguing with him if
he chose to take that line.

"You do not agree? But such things have been. Well, we will come
in and interview the brave Dorcas."

Dorcas was standing in the boudoir, her hands folded in front of
her, and her grey hair rose in stiff waves under her white cap.
She was the very model and picture of a good old-fashioned
servant.

In her attitude towards Poirot, she was inclined to be
suspicious, but he soon broke down her defences. He drew forward
a chair.

"Pray be seated, mademoiselle."