ROUND THE TABLE
"How do you mean—in spite of us all?" he asked, with slightly raised eyebrows.
"But—just that, monsieur. Every one of you in this room is concealing something from me." He raised his hand as a faint murmur of protest arose. "Yes, yes, I know what I am saying. It may be something unimportant—trivial—which is supposed to have no bearing on the case, but there it is. Each one of you has something to hide. Come, now, am I right?"
His glance, challenging and accusing, swept round the table. And every pair of eyes dropped before his. Yes, mine as well.
"I am answered," said Poirot, with a curious laugh. He got up from his seat. "I appeal to you all. Tell me the truth—the whole truth." There was a silence. "Will no one speak?"
He gave the same short laugh again.
"C'est dommage," he said, and went out.
[155]
