"Oh, he was.
Meredith Blake said so.
If he had to finish the picture I don't see why he couldn't have taken some photographs and worked from them.
I know a chap - does water colors of places - he does that."
Poirot shook his head.
"No - I can understand Crale the artist.
You must realize, my friend, that at that moment, probably, his picture was all that mattered to Crale.
However much he wanted to marry the girl, the picture came first.
That's why he hoped to get through her visit without its coming to an open issue.
The girl, of course, didn't see it that way.
With women, love always comes first."
"Don't I know it," said Superintendent Hale with feeling.
"Men," continued Poirot, "and especially artists, are different."
"Art!" said the superintendent with scorn. "All this talk about art! I never have understood it and I never shall!
You should have seen that picture Crale was painting.
All lopsided.
He'd made the girl look as though she had toothache and the battlements were all cockeyed.
Unpleasant-looking, the whole thing.
I couldn't get it out of my mind for a long time afterward.
I even dreamed about it.
And, what's more, it affected my eyesight - I began to see battlements and walls and things all out of drawing.
Yes, and women, too!"
Poirot smiled.
He said, "Although you do not know it, you are paying a tribute to the greatness of Amyas Crale's art."
"Nonsense.
Why can't a painter paint something nice and cheerful to look at?
Why go out of your way to look for ugliness?"
"Some of us, mon cher, see beauty in curious places."
"The girl was a good-looker, all right," said Hale.
"Lots of make-up and next to no clothes on. It isn't decent the way these girls go about.
And that was sixteen years ago, mind you.
Nowadays one wouldn't think anything of it.
But then - well, it shocked me.
Trousers and one of those sports shirts, open at the neck - and not another thing, I should say!"
"You seem to remember these points very well," murmured Poirot slyly.
Superintendent Hale blushed.
"I'm just passing on the impression I got," he said austerely.
"Quite - quite," said Poirot soothingly. He went on: "So it would seem that the principal witnesses against Mrs Crale were Philip Blake and Elsa Greer?"
"Yes.
Vehement, they were, both of them.
But the governess was called by the prosecution, too, and what she said carried more weight than the other two.
She was on Mrs Crale's side entirely, you see. Up in arms for her.
But she was an honest woman and gave her evidence truthfully, without trying to minimize it in any way."
"And Meredith Blake?"
"He was very distressed by the whole thing, poor gentleman.
As well he might be!
Blamed himself for his drug brewing - and the chief constable blamed him for it, too.
Coniine, I understand, was in Schedule I of the Poison Act.
He was a friend of both parties, and it hit him very hard - besides being the kind of country gentleman who shrinks from notoriety and being in the public eye."
"Did not Mrs Crale's young sister give evidence?"