poirot got hastily to his feet. he had remained sitting out on the terrace alone after everyone else

had left. lost in meditation he had been staring at the smooth shiny black rocks when the sound of

his name recalled him to himself. it was a well-bred, assured voice, a charming voice, although

perhaps a trifle arrogant.

hercule poirot, rising quickly, looked into the commanding eyes of linnet doyle. she wore a wrap

of rich purple velvet over her white satin gown and she looked more lovely and more regal than

poirot had imagined possible.

"you are monsieur hercule poirot?" said linnet.

it was hardly a question.

"at your service, madame."

"you know who i am, perhaps?"

"yes, madame. i have heard your name. i know exactly who you are." linnet nodded. that was

only what she had expected. she went on, in her charming autocratic manner: "will you come with

me into the card room, monsieur poirot? i am very anxious to speak to you."

"certainly, madame."

she led the way into the hotel. he followed. she led him into the deserted card room and motioned

him to close the door. then she sank down on a chair at one of the tables and he sat down opposite

her. she plunged straightaway into what she wanted to say. there were no hesitations. her speech

came flowingly.

"i have heard a great deal about you, monsieur poirot, and i know that you are a very clever man.

it happens that i am urgently in need of someone to help me - and i think very possibly that you

are the man who could do it."

poirot inclined his head.

"you are very amiable, madame, but you see, i am on holiday, and when i am on holiday i do not

take cases."

"that could be arranged."

it was not offensively said - only with the quiet confidence of a young woman who had always

been able to arrange matters to her satisfaction.

linnet doyle went on: "i am the subject, monsieur poirot, of an intolerable persecution. that

persecution has got to stop! my own idea was to go to the police about it, but my - my husband

seems to think that the police would be powerless to do anything."

"perhaps - if you would explain a little further?" murmured poirot politely.

"oh, yes, i will do so. the matter is perfectly simple."

there was still no hesitation - no faltering. linnet doyle had a clear-cut businesslike mind. she

only paused a minute so as to present the facts as concisely as possible.

"before i met my husband, he was engaged to a miss de bellefort. she was also a friend of mine.

my husband broke off his engagement to her - they were not suited in any way. she, i am sorry to

say, took it rather hard... i - am very sorry about that - but these things cannot be helped. she made

certain - well, threats - to which i paid very little attention, and which, i may say, she has not

attempted to carry out. but instead she has adopted the extraordinary course of - of following us

about wherever we go." poirot raised his eyebrows.

"ah - rather an unusual - er - revenge."

"very unusual - and very ridiculous! but also - annoying."

she bit her lip.

poirot nodded.

"yes, i can imagine that. you are, i understand, on your honey-moon?"

"yes. it happened - the first time - at venice. she was there - at danielli. i thought it just an

embarrasing coincidence - that was all. then we found her on board the boat at brindisi. we've

understood that she was going on to palestine. we left her, as we thought, on the boat. but - but

when we got to mena house she was there - waiting for us."

poirot nodded.

"and now?"

"we came up the nile by boat. i - i was half expecting to find her on board. when she wasn't there

i thought she had stopped being so - so childish. but when we got here - she - she was here -

waiting."

poirot eyed her keenly for a moment. she was still perfectly composed, but the knuckles of the

hand that was gripping the table were white with the force of her grip.

he said, "and you are afraid this state of things may continue?"

"yes." she paused. "of course the whole thing is idiotic! jacqueline is making herself utterly

ridiculous. i am surprised she hasn't got more pride - more dignity."

poirot made a slight gesture.

"there are times, madame, when pride and dignity - they go by the board! there are other -

stronger emotions."

"yes, possibly." linnet spoke impatiently. "but what on earth can she hope to gain by all this?"

"it is not always a question of gain, madame."

something in his tone struck linnet disagreeably. she flushed and said quickly: "you are right. a

discussion of motives is beside the point. the crux of the matter is that this has got to be stopped."

"and how do you propose that that should be accomplished, madame?" poirot asked.

"well - naturally - my husband and i cannot continue being subjected to this annoyance. there

must be some kind of legal address against such a thing."

she spoke impatiently. poirot looked at her thoughtfully as he asked:

"has she threatened you in actual words in public? used insulting language? attempted any bodily

harm?"

"no."

"then, frankly, madame, i do not see what you can do. if it is a young lady's pleasure to travel in

certain places, and those places are the same where you and your husband find yourselves - eh bien

- what of it? the air is free to all! there is no question of her forcing herself upon your privacy? it

is always in public that these encounters take place?"

"you mean there is nothing that i can do about it?"

linnet sounded incredulous.

poirot said placidly: "nothing at all as far as i can see. mademoiselle de bellefort is within her

rights."

"but - but it is maddening! it is intolerable that i should have to put up with this!"

poirot said drily, "i sympathize with you, madame - especially as i imagine that you have not often

had to put up with things."

linnet was frowning.

"there must be some way of stopping it," she murmured.

poirot shrugged his shoulders.

"you can always leave - move on somewhere else," he suggested.

"then she will follow!"

"very possibly - yes."

"it's absurd!"

"precisely."

"anyway, why should i - we - run away? as though - as though -" she stopped.

"exactly, madame. as though -! it is all there, is it not?"

linnet lifted her head and stared at him.

"what do you mean?"

poirot altered his tone. he leant forward; his voice was confidential, appealing. he said very

gently, "why do you mind so much, madame?"

"why? but it's maddening! irritating to the last degree! i've told you why!"

poirot shook his head.

"not altogether."

"what do you mean?" linnet asked again.

poirot leant back, folded his arms and spoke in a detached impersonal manner. "ecoutez, madame.

i will recount to you a little history. it is that one day, a month or two ago, i am dining in a

restaurant in london. at the table next to me are two people, a man and a girl. they are very

happy, so it seems, very much in love. they talk with confidence of the future. it is not that i listen

to what is not meant for me; they are quite oblivious of who hears them and who does not. the

man's back is to me, but i can watch the girl's face. it is very intense. she is in love - heart, soul

and body - and she is not of those who love lightly and often. with her it is clearly the life and the

death. they are engaged to be married, these two; that is what i gather; and they talk of where they

shall pass the days of their honeymoon. they plan to go to egypt."

he paused. linnet said sharply "well?"

poirot went on: "that is a month or two ago, but the girl's face - i do not forget it. i know that i

shall remember if i see it again. and i remember too the man's voice. and i think you can guess,

madame, when it is i see the one and hear the other again. it is here in egypt. the man is on his

honeymoon, yes - but he is on his honeymoon with another woman."

linnet said sharply: "what of it? i had already mentioned the facts."

"the facts - yes."

"well then?"

poirot said slowly: "the girl in the restaurant mentioned a friend - a friend who, she was very

positive, would not let her down. that friend, i think, was you, madame."

linnet flushed.

"yes. i told you we had been friends."

"and she trusted you?"

"yes."

she hesitated for a moment, biting her lip impatiently; then, as poirot did not seem disposed to

speak, she broke out:

"of course the whole thing was very unfortunate. but these things happen, monsieur poirot."

"ah! yes, they happen, madame." he paused. "you are of the church of england i presume?"

"yes." linnet looked slightly bewildered.

"then you have heard portions of the bible read aloud in church. you have heard of king david

and of the rich man who had many flocks and herds and the poor man who had one ewe lamb - and

of how the rich man took the poor man's one ewe lamb. that was something that happened,

madame."

linnet sat up. her eyes flashed angrily.

"i see perfectly what you are driving at, monsieur poirot! you think, to put it vulgarly, that i stole

my friend's young man. looking at the matter sentimentally - which is, i suppose, the way people

of your generation cannot help looking at things - that is possibly true. but the real hard truth is

different. i don't deny that jackie was passionately in love with simon, but i don't think you take

into account that he may not have been equally devoted to her. he was very fond of her, but i think

that even before he met me he was beginning to feel that he had made a mistake. look at it clearly,

monsieur poirot. simon discovers that it is i he loves, not jackie. what is he to do? be heroically

noble and marry a woman he does not care for - and thereby probably ruin three lives - for it is

doubtful whether he could make jackie happy under those circumstances? if he were actually

married to her when he met me i agree that it might be his duty to stick to her - though i'm not

really sure of that. if one person is unhappy the other suffers too. but an engagement is not really

binding. if a mistake has been made, then surely it is better to face the fact before it is too late. i

admit that it was very hard on jackie, and i'm terribly sorry about it - but there it is. it was

inevitable."

"i wonder."

she stared at him.

"what do you mean?"

"it is very sensible, very logical -all that you say! but it does not explain one thing."

"what is that?"

"your own attitude, madame. see you, this pursuit of you, you might take it in two ways. it might

cause you annoyance - yes, or it might stir your pity - that your friend should have been so deeply

hurt as to throw all regards for the conventions aside. but that is not the way you react. no, to you

this persecution is intolerable - and why? it can be for one reason only - that you feel a sense of

guilt."

linnet sprang to her feet.

"how dare you? really, monsieur poirot, this is going too far."

"but i do dare, madame! i am going to speak to you quite frankly. i suggest to you that, although

you may have endeavoured to gloss over the fact to yourself, you did deliberately set about taking

your husband from your friend. i suggest that you felt strongly attracted to him at once. but i

suggest that there was a moment when you hesitated, when you realized that there was a choice -

that you could refrain or go on. i suggest that the initiative rested with you - not with monsieur

doyle. you are beautiful, madame; you are rich; you are clever, intelligent - and you have charm.

you could have exercised that charm or you could have restrained it. you had everything,

madame, that life can offer. your friend's life was bound up in one person. you knew that, but,

though you hesitated, you did not hold your hand. you stretched it out and, like the rich man in the

bible, you took the poor man's one ewe lamb."

there was a silence. linnet controlled herself with an effort and said in a cold voice, "all this is

quite beside the point!"

"no, it is not beside the point. i am explaining to you just why the unexpected appearances of

mademoiselle de bellefort have upset you so much. it is because, though she may be unwomanly

and undignified in what she is doing, you have the inner conviction that she has right on her side."

"that's not true!"

poirot shrugged his shoulders.

"you refuse to be honest with yourself."

"not at all."

poirot said gently, "i should say, madame, that you have had a happy life, that you have been

generous and kindly in your attitude toward others."

"i have tried to be," said linnet. the impatient anger died out of her face. she spoke simply -

almost forlornly.

"and that is why the feeling that you have deliberately caused injury to someone upsets you so

much, and why you are so reluctant to admit the fact. pardon me if i have been impertinent, but the

psychology, it is the most important fact in a case."

linnet said slowly: "even supposing what you say were true - and i don't admit it, mind - what can

be done about it now? one can't alter the past; one must deal with things as they are."

poirot nodded.

"you have the clear brain. yes, one cannot go back over the past. one must accept things as they

are. and sometimes, madame, that is all one can do - accept the consequences of one's past deeds."

"you mean," asked linnet incredulously, "that i can do nothing - nothing?"

"you must have courage, madame; that is what it seems like to me."

linnet said slowly:

"couldn't you - talk to jackie - to miss de bellefort? reason with her?"

"yes, i could do that. i will do that if you would like me to do so. but do not expect much result. i

fancy that mademoiselle de bellefort is so much in the grip of a fixed idea that nothing will turn

her from it."

"but surely we can do something to extricate ourselves?"

"you could, of course, return to england and establish yourself in your own house."

"even then, i suppose, jacqueline is capable of planting herself in the village, so that i should see

her every time i went out of the grounds."

"true."

"besides," said linnet slowly, "i don't think that simon would agree to run away."

"what is his attitude in this?"

"he's furious - simply furious."

poirot nodded thoughtfully.

linnet said appealingly, "you will - talk to her?"

"yes, i will do that. but it is my opinion that i shall not be able to accomplish anything."

linnet said violently: "jackie is extraordinary! one can't tell what she will do!"

"you spoke just now of certain threats she had made. would you tell me what those threats were?"

linnet shrugged her shoulders.

"she threatened to - well - kill us both. jackie can be rather - latin sometimes."

"i see."

poirot's tone was grave.

linnet turned to him appealingly.

"you will act for me?"

"no, madame." his tone was firm. "i will not accept a commission from you. i will do what i can

in the interests of humanity. that, yes. there is here a situation that is full of difficulty and danger.

i will do what i can to clear it up - but i am not very sanguine as to my chance of success."

linnet doyle said slowly, "but you will not act for me?"

"no, madame," said hercule poirot.