He went on:
"Major Barry, Retired Indian Army.
An admirer of women.
A teller of long and boring stories."
Inspector Colgate sighed. "You needn't go on. I've met a few, sir."
"Mr Horace Blatt.
He is, apparently, a rich man.
He talks a good deal - about Mr Blatt.
He wants to be everybody's friend. It is sad. For nobody likes him very much.
And there is something else. Mr Blatt last night asked me a good many questions.
Mr Blatt was uneasy.
Yes, there is something not quite right about Mr Blatt."
He paused and went on with a change of voice:
"Next comes Miss Rosamund Darnley.
Her business name is Rose Mond, Ltd. She is a celebrated dressmaker.
What can I say of her?
She has brains and charm and chic. She is very pleasing to look at."
He paused and added: "And she is a very old friend of Captain Marshall's."
Weston sat up in his chair. "Oh, she is, is she?"
"Yes.
They had not met for some years."
Weston asked: "Did she know he was going to be down here?"
"She says not."
Poirot paused and then went on:
"Who comes next? Miss Brewster.
I find her just a little alarming." He shook his head.
"She has a voice like a man's. She is gruff and what you call hearty.
She rows boats and has a handicap of four at golf." He paused. "I think, though, that she has a good heart."
Weston said: "That leaves only the Reverend Stephen Lane.
Who's the Reverend Stephen Lane?"
"I can only tell you one thing. He is a man who is in a condition of great nervous tension.
Also he is, I think, a fanatic."
Inspector Colgate said: "Oh, that kind of person."
Weston said:
"And that's the lot!" He looked at Poirot. "You seem very lost in thought, my friend."
Poirot said: "Yes.
Because, you see, when Mrs Marshall went off this morning and asked me not to tell any one I had seen her, I jumped at once in my own mind to a certain conclusion.
I thought that her friendship with Patrick Redfern had made trouble between her and her husband. I thought that she was going to meet Patrick Redfern somewhere and that she did not want her husband to know where she was."
He paused. "But that, you see, was where I was wrong.
Because, although her husband appeared almost immediately on the beach and asked if I had seen her, Patrick Redfern arrived also - and was most patently and obviously looking for her!
And therefore, my friends, I am asking myself. Who was it that Arlena Marshall went off to meet?"
Inspector Colgate said:
"That fits in with my idea.
A man from London or somewhere."
Hercule Poirot shook his head.
He said: "But, my friend, according to your theory, Arlena Marshall had broken with this mythical man.
Why, then, should she take such trouble and pains to meet him?"
Inspector Colgate shook his head. He said: "Who do you think it was?"
"That is just what I cannot imagine.
We have just read through the list of hotel guests.