And I wondered if M. Poirot had a wife, and if he went on in the way you always hear foreigners do, with mistresses and things like that.
He looked so comic I couldnt imagine it.
Sheila Reilly has a lot of character, said Miss Johnson.
Shes young and shes crude, but shes the right sort.
I take your word for it, mademoiselle, said Poirot.
He got up and said, Are there any other members of the staff in the house?
Marie Mercado is somewhere about.
All the men are up on the dig today.
I think they wanted to get out of the house.
I dont blame them.
If youd like to go up to the dig
She came out on the verandah and said, smiling to me: Nurse Leatheran wont mind taking you, I dare say.
Oh, certainly, Miss Johnson, I said.
And youll come back to lunch, wont you, M. Poirot?
Enchanted, mademoiselle.
Miss Johnson went back into the living-room where she was engaged in cataloguing.
Mrs Mercados on the roof, I said.
Do you want to see her first?
It would be as well, I think.
Let us go up.
As we went up the stairs I said: I did what you told me.
Did you hear anything?
Not a sound.
That will be a weight off Miss Johnsons mind at any rate, I said.
Shes been worrying that she might have done something about it.
Mrs Mercado was sitting on the parapet, her head bent down, and she was so deep in thought that she never heard us till Poirot halted opposite her and bade her good morning.
Then she looked up with a start.
She looked ill this morning, I thought, her small face pinched and wizened and great dark circles under her eyes.
Encore moi, said Poirot.
I come today with a special object.
And he went on much in the same way as he had done to Miss Johnson, explaining how necessary it was that he should get a true picture of Mrs Leidner.
Mrs Mercado, however, wasnt as honest as Miss Johnson had been.
She burst into fulsome praise which, I was pretty sure, was quite far removed from her real feelings.
Dear,dear Louise!
Its so hard to explain her to someone who didnt know her.
She was such an exotic creature. Quite different from anyone else.
You felt that, Im sure, nurse?
A martyr to nerves, of course, and full of fancies, but one put up with things in her one wouldnt from anyone else.
And she was so sweet to us all, wasnt she, nurse?
And so humble about herself I mean she didnt know anything about archaeology, and she was so eager to learn.
Always asking my husband about the chemical processes for treating the metal objects and helping Miss Johnson to mend pottery.
Oh, we were all devoted to her.
Then it is not true, madame, what I have heard, that there was a certain tenseness an uncomfortable atmosphere here?
Mrs Mercado opened her opaque black eyes very wide.
Oh! who can have been telling you that?
Nurse?
Dr Leidner?
Im surehe would never notice anything, poor man.
And she shot a thoroughly unfriendly glance at me.
Poirot smiled easily.