had married an extremely wealthy wife, but that that wife proposed to divorce you, with excellent reasons, what would you do about it?"
"I should endeavour, sir," replied George, "to make her change her mind."
"By peaceful or by forcible methods?"
George looked shocked.
"You will excuse me, sir," he said, “but a gentleman of the aristocracy would not behave like a White chapel coster. He would not do anything low."
"Would he not, Georges? I wonder now. Well, perhaps you are right."
There was a knock on the door. George went to it and opened it a discreet inch or two. A low murmured colloquy went on, and then the valet returned to Poirot.
"A note, sir."
Poirot took it. It was from M. Caux, the Commissary of Police.
"We are about to interrogate the Comte de la Roche. The Juge d'Instruction begs that you will be present."
"Quickly, my suit, Georges! I must hasten myself."
A quarter of an hour later, spick and span in his brown suit, Poirot entered the Examining Magistrate's room. M. Caux was already there, and both he and M. Carrège greeted Poirot with polite empressement.
"The affair is somewhat discouraging," murmured M. Caux.
"It appears that the Comte arrived in Nice the day before the murder."
"If that is true, it will settle your affair nicely for you," responded Poirot.
