Just for fun or for the sense of power or perhaps just because she was made that way.
And she was the kind of woman who had to get hold of every male creature within reach!
Miss Reilly, I cried, I dont think thats true.
In fact I know it isnt.
She went on without taking the least notice of me.
It wasnt enough for her to have her husband adore her.
She had to make a fool of that long-legged shambling idiot of a Mercado.
Then she got hold of Bill.
Bills a sensible cove, but she was getting him all mazed and bewildered.
Carl Reiter she just amused herself by tormenting.
It was easy.
Hes a sensitive boy.
And she had a jolly good go at David.
David was better sport to her because he put up a fight.
He felt her charm but he wasnt having any.
I think because hed got sense enough to know that she didnt really care a damn.
And thats why I hate her so.
Shes not sensual.
She doesnt want affairs.
Its just cold-blooded experiment on her part and the fun of stirring people up and setting them against each other.
She dabbled in that too.
Shes the sort of woman whos never had a row with anyone in her life but rows always happen where she is!
She makes them happen.
Shes a kind of female Iago.
She must have drama.
But she doesnt want to be involved herself.
Shes always outside pulling strings looking on enjoying it.
Oh, do you see at all what I mean?
I see, perhaps, more than you know, mademoiselle, said Poirot.
I couldnt make his voice out.
He didnt sound indignant. He sounded oh, well, I cant explain it.
Sheila Reilly seemed to understand, for she flushed all over her face.
You can think what you choose, she said.
But Im right about her.
She was a clever woman and she was bored and she experimented with people like other people experiment with chemicals.
She enjoyed working on poor old Johnsons feelings and seeing her bite on the bullet and control herself like the old sport she is.
She liked goading little Mercado into a white-hot frenzy.
She liked flicking me on the raw and she could do it too, every time!
She liked finding out things about people and holding it over them.
Oh, I dont mean crude blackmail I mean just letting them know that she knew and leaving them uncertain what she meant to do about it.
My God, though, that woman was an artist!
There was nothing crude about her methods!
And her husband? asked Poirot.
She never wanted to hurt him, said Miss Reilly slowly.
Ive never known her anything but sweet to him.
I suppose she was fond of him.
Hes a dear wrapped up in his own world his digging and his theories.
And he worshipped her and thought her perfection.
That might have annoyed some women.
It didnt annoy her.