On Sunday, after seeing my patients, I arrived home at about six o'clock.
'I've had a very interesting afternoon,' began Caroline.
'Have you?' I said. 'Did Miss Gannett come for tea?'
'No, Monsieur Poirot! Now, what do you think of that?'
I thought a good many things of it, but I was careful not to say them to Caroline.
'What did he talk about?' I asked.
'He told me a lot about himself and his cases. And naturally we talked about the murder. I was able to correct Monsieur Poirot on several points. He was very grateful to me. He said I could make an excellent detective, with a wonderful understanding of human nature. He talked a lot about the little grey cells of the brain. His own, he says, are of the first quality.'
'He isn't modest, is he?'
'He thought that it was very important for Ralph to be found as soon as possible, and explain himself. He says that his disappearance will produce a very bad impression at the inquest. I agreed with him,' said Caroline.
'Caroline,' I said, 'did you tell Monsieur Poirot what you overheard in the woods that day?'
'I did,' said Caroline.
'You realize you're giving Poirot evidence that will prove Ralph is guilty?'
'Not at all,' said Caroline. 'I was surprised you hadn't told him.'
'I took very good care not to,' I said. 'I'm fond of that boy.'
'So am I. That's why I say you're talking nonsense. I don't believe Ralph did it, and so the truth can't hurt him. Therefore we ought to give Monsieur Poirot all the help we can.'
'Did Poirot ask you any more questions?' I inquired.
'Only about the patients you had that morning. Your surgery patients. How many and who they were.'
'Were you able to tell him that?'
'Of course!' said my sister. 'I can see the path up to the surgery door perfectly from this window. And I've got an excellent memory, James. Much better than yours.'
'I'm sure you have.'
'There was old Mrs Bennett, and that boy from the farm with the bad foot. Dolly Grice came to have a needle taken out of her finger, and that American steward off the ship. Let me see - that's four. Yes, and old George Evans with his bad stomach. And lastly, Miss Russell.'