exactly—though you have shown yourself becomingly reticent as to your own share in them."
"And it has helped you?"
"Yes. I may say that it has helped me considerably. Come, we must go over to my house and set the stage for my little performance."
Caroline was in the hall. I think she hoped that she might be invited to accompany us. Poirot dealt with the situation tactfully.
"I should much like to have had you present, mademoiselle," he said regretfully, "but at this juncture it would not be wise. See you, all these people to-night are suspects. Amongst them, I shall find the person who killed Mr. Ackroyd."
"You really believe that?" I said incredulously.
"I see that you do not," said Poirot dryly. "Not yet do you appreciate Hercule Poirot at his true worth."
At that minute Ursula came down the staircase.
"You are ready, my child?" said Poirot. "That is good. We will go to my house together. Mademoiselle Caroline, believe me, I do everything possible to render you service. Good-evening."
We went out, leaving Caroline, rather like a dog who has been refused a walk, standing on the front door step gazing after us.
The sitting-room at The Larches had been got ready. On the table were various sirops and glasses. Also a plate of biscuits. Several chairs had been brought in from the other room.
Poirot ran to and fro rearranging things. Pulling out
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