The news about Ralph Paton, invented by Poirot, appeared in the newspaper the next morning and that afternoon Poirot arrived at my house. 'I have something I would like you to do, my friend,' he said. 'Tonight I want to have a little meeting at my house. I need Mrs Ackroyd, Mademoiselle Flora, Major Blunt and Mr Raymond. I would like you to ask them to come at nine o'clock. You will ask them - yes?'

'With pleasure; but why not ask them yourself?'

'Because they will want to know my reasons for having the meeting. And, as you know, my friend, I dislike having to explain my little ideas until the time comes.'

It was then that Caroline opened the door. Her face was full of excitement.

'Ursula Bourne,' she said. 'She's here! I've asked her to wait in the dining room. She's terribly upset, poor thing, and says she must see Monsieur Poirot at once - his housekeeper told her he was here.'

Ursula Bourne was sitting at the table. Her arms were spread out in front of her, and her eyes were red from crying.

'Ursula Bourne,' I murmured. But Poirot went past me with outstretched hands.

'No,' he said, 'that is not quite right, I think. It is not Ursula Bourne, is it, my child - but Ursula Paton? Mrs Ralph Paton.'