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being able to do so. Nurse Craven. Allerton is not a man who confines himself to the pursuit of one
woman! His affair with Nurse Craven had progressed much further than the mere flirtation he was
having with Judith.
No, stage management again by Norton.
You saw Allerton and Judith kiss. Then Norton shoves you back round the corner. He doubtless knows
quite well that Allerton is going to meet Nurse Craven in the summerhouse. After a little argument he
lets you go but still accompanies you. The sentence you overhear Allerton speaking is magnificent for
his purpose and he swiftly drags you away before you have a chance to discover that the woman is not
Judith!
Yes, the virtuoso! And your reaction is immediate, complete on all those themes! You responded. You
made up your mind to do murder.
But fortunately, Hastings, you had a friend whose brain still functioned. And not only his brain!
I said at the beginning of this that if you have not arrived at the truth, it is because you have too trusting
a nature. You believe what is said to you. You believed what I said to you...
Yet it was all very easy for you to discover the truth. I had sent Georges away - why? I had replaced him
with a less experienced and clearly much less intelligent man - why? I was not being attended by a
doctor - I, who have always been careful about my health - I would not hear of seeing one - why?
Do you see now why you were necessary to me at Styles? I had to have someone who accepted what I
said without question. You accepted my statement that I came back from Egypt much worse than when I
went. I did not. I came back very much better! You could have found out the fact if you had taken the
trouble. But no, you believed. I sent away Georges because I could not have succeeded in making him
think that I had suddenly lost all power in my limbs. Georges is extremely intelligent about what he
sees. He would have known that I was shamming.
Do you understand, Hastings? All the time that I was pretending to be helpless and deceiving Curtiss, I
was not helpless at all. I could walk - with a limp.
I heard you come up that evening. I heard you hesitate and then go into Allerton's room. And at once I
was on the alert. I was already much exercised about your state of mind.
I did not delay. I was alone. Curtiss had gone down to supper. I slipped out of my room and across the
passage. I heard you in Allerton's bathroom. And promptly, my friend, in the manner you so much
deplore, I dropped to my knees and I looked through the keyhole of the bathroom door. One could see
through it, fortunately, as there is a bolt and not a key on the inside.
I perceived your manipulations with the sleeping tablets. I realized what your idea was.
And so, my friend, I acted. I went back to my room. I made my preparations. When Curtiss came up, I
sent him to fetch you. You came, yawning and explaining that you had a headache. I made at once the
big fuss - urged remedies on you. For the sake of peace you consented to drink a cup of chocolate. You
gulped it down quickly so as to get away quicker. But I, too, my friend, have some sleeping tablets.
And so, you slept - slept until morning, when you awoke your own sane self and were horrified at what
you had so nearly done.
You were safe now - one does not attempt these things twice - not when one has relapsed into sanity.
But it decided me, Hastings! For whatever I might not know about other people did not apply to you.
You are not a murderer, Hastings! But you might have been hanged for one - for a murder committed by
another man who in the eyes of the law would be guiltless.
You, my good, my honest, my oh-so-honourable Hastings - so kindly, so conscientious - so innocent!
Yes, I must act. I knew that my time was short - and for that I was glad. For the worst part of murder,
Hastings, is its effect on the murderer. I, Hercule Poirot, might come to believe myself divinely
appointed to deal out death to all and sundry... But mercifully, there would not be time for that to
happen. The end would come soon. And I was afraid that Norton might succeed with someone who was
unutterably dear to us both. I am talking of your daughter...
And now we come to the death of Barbara Franklin. Whatever your ideas may be on the subject,
Hastings, I do not think you have once suspected the truth.
For you see, Hastings, you killed Barbara Franklin.
Mais oui, you did!
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