'Let us walk a little,' Poirot said. 'The air is pleasant today.'

He led me down a path enclosed by bushes. At the end was a paved area with a seat and a pond of goldfish. Poirot took another path which went up the side of a wooded slope. In one place the trees had been cut down, and a seat looked down on the pond.

'England is very beautiful,' said Poirot. Then he smiled. 'And so are English girls. Hush, my friend, and look at the pretty picture below us.'

Flora was moving along the path we had just left and she was singing quietly to herself. Despite her black mourning dress, there was nothing but joy in her whole attitude. She suddenly turned round, flung her head back and laughed. As she did so a man stepped out from the trees. It was Hector Blunt.

'How you surprised me!' the girl said. 'I didn't see you.'

Blunt stood looking at her for a minute or two in silence.

'What I like about you,' said Flora, 'is your cheerful conversation.'

'I was never good at conversation. Not even when I was young.'

'That was a very long time ago, I suppose,' said Flora.

I caught the laughter in her voice, but I don't think Blunt did.

'Yes,' he said simply, 'it was. It's time I went back to Africa. I'm useless in social gatherings.'

'But you're not going now,' cried Flora. 'No - not while we're in all this trouble. Oh, please! If you go...' she turned away.

'You want me to stay?' asked Blunt.

'We all...'

'I meant you personally,' said Blunt, with directness.

Flora turned slowly back again and met his eyes. 'I want you to stay,' she said, 'if - if that makes any difference.'

'It makes all the difference,' said Blunt.

They sat down on the stone seat by the goldfish pond.

'It's such a lovely morning,' said Flora. 'You know, I can't help feeling happy, in spite of everything. That's awful, I suppose?'

'It's quite natural,' said Blunt. 'You never saw your uncle until two years ago, did you? You can't be expected to grieve very much.'

'You make things seem so simple,' said Flora. 'I'll - I'll tell you why I felt so happy this morning. However heartless you think me. It's because the lawyer has been here - Mr Hammond. He told us about the will. Uncle Roger has left me twenty thousand pounds. Think of it - twenty thousand beautiful pounds.'

Blunt looked surprised. 'Does it mean so much to you?'

'Why, it's everything. Freedom - life - no more pretending to be thankful for all the old clothes rich relations give you. I'm so happy. I'm free. Free to do what I like. Free not to...' She stopped suddenly.