THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD
I lingered, thinking that perhaps the girl would say more. Her next question surprised me.
"When do they think the murder was done? Just before ten o'clock?"
"That is the idea," I said. "Between a quarter to ten and the hour."
"Not earlier? Not before a quarter to ten?"
I looked at her attentively. She was so clearly eager for a reply in the affirmative.
"That's out of the question," I said. "Miss Ackroyd saw her uncle alive at a quarter to ten."
She turned away, and her whole figure seemed to droop.
"A handsome girl," I said to myself as I drove off. "An exceedingly handsome girl."
Caroline was at home. She had had a visit from Poirot and was very pleased and important about it.
"I am helping him with the case," she explained.
I felt rather uneasy. Caroline is bad enough as it is. What will she be like with her detective instincts encouraged?
"Are you going round the neighborhood looking for Ralph Paton's mysterious girl?" I inquired.
"I might do that on my own account," said Caroline. "No, this is a special thing M. Poirot wants me to find out for him."
"What is it?" I asked.
"He wants to know whether Ralph Paton's boots were black or brown," said Caroline with tremendous solemnity.
[176]
