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The couple passed close to him. He heard Simon Doyle say: "We'll try and make time for it, darling. We can easily stay a week or two if you like it here." His face was turned towards her, eager, adoring, a little humble.
Poirot's eyes ran over him thoughtfully-the square shoulders, the bronzed face, the dark blue eyes, the rather childlike simplicity of the smile.
"Lucky devil," said Tim after they had passed. "Fancy finding an heiress who hasn't got adenoids and flat feet!" "They look frightfully happy," said Rosalie with a note of envy in her voice.
She said suddenly but so low that Tim did not catch the words: "It isn't fair." Poirot heard, however. He had been frowning somewhat perplexedly but now he flashed a quick glance towards her.
' Tim said: "I must collect some stuff for my mother now." He raised his hat and moved off. Poirot and Rosalie retraced their steps slowly in the direction of the hotel, waving aside fresh proffers of donkeys. "So it is not fair, Mademoiselle?" said Poirot gently.
The girl flushed angrily.
"I don't know what you mean." ' "I am repeating what you said just now under your breath. Oh, yes, you did."
Rosalie Otterbourne shrugged her shoulders.
"It really seems a little too much for one person. Money, good looks, marvellous figure and-"
She paused and Poirot said:
"And love? Eh? And love? But you do not know-she may have been married for her money!"
"Didn't you see the way he looked at her?"
"Oh, yes, Mademoiselle. I saw all there was to see--indeed I saw something that you did not."
"What was that?"
Poirot said slowly:
"I saw, Mademoiselle, dark lines below a woman's eyes. I saw a hand that clutched a sunshade so tight that the knuckles were white " Rosalie was staring at him.
"What do you mean?" "I mean that all is not the gold that glittersI mean that though the lady is rich and beautiful and beloved, there is all the same something that is not right.
And I know something else." "Yes?" "I know," said Poirot frowning, "that somewhere, at some time, I have heard that voice before-the voice of M. Doyle-and I wish I could remember where." But Rosalie was not listening. She had stopped dead. With the point of her sunshade she was tracing patterns in the loose sand. Suddenly she broke out fiercely: "I'm odious. I'm quite odious. I'm just a beast through and through. I'd like to tear the clothes off her back and stamp on her lovely arrogant self-confident face. I'm just a jealous cat-but that's what I feel like. She's so horribly successful and poised and assured." Hercule Poirot looked a little astonished by the outburst. He took her by the arm and gave her a friendly little shake.
"Tenez-you will feel better for having said that!"
"I just hate her. I've never hated any one so much at first sight." "Magnificent."
Rosalie looked at him doubtfully. Then her mouth twitched and she laughed. "Bien,' said Poirot, and laughed too.
They proceeded amicably back to the hotel.
"I must find mother," said Rosalie, as they came into the cool dim hall.
Poirot passed out on the other side on to the terrace overlooking the Nile.
Here were little tables set for tea, but it was early still. He stood for a few moments looking down on to the river then strolled down through the gardens.
Some people were playing te
He drew back a little. She had not seen him, and he watched her for a while without her suspecting his presence. Her small foot tapped impatiently on the ground. Her eyes, dark with a kind of smouldering fire, had a queer kind of suffering dark triumph in them. She was looking out across the Nile where the white-sailed boats glided up and down the river.
A face and a voice. He remembered them both. This girl's face and the voice he had heard just now, the voice of a newly made bridegroom…
And even as he stood there considering the unconscious girl, the next scene in the drama was played.
Voices sounded above. The girl on the seat started to her feet. Li
The girl who was standing there took a step or two forward.
The other two stopped dead.
"Hallo, Li
Li
With a quick birdlike turn of her head she signalled her realisation of a stranger's presence. Simon turned his head and noticed Poirot.
He said awkwardly:
"Hallo, Jacqueline, we didn't expect to see you here." The words were unconvincing in the extreme.
The girl flashed white teeth at them.
"Quite a surprise?" she asked.
Then, with a little nod, she walked up the path.
Poirot moved delicately in the opposite direction.
As he went he heard Li
"Simon for God's sakeSimon what can we do?"
Chapter 2
Di
The terrace outside the Cataract Hotel was softly lit. Most of the guests staying at the hotel were there sitting at little tables.
Simon and Li
As the little group hesitated for a moment in the doorway, Tim Allerton rose from his chair nearby and came forward.
"You don't remember me, I'm sure,''he said pleasantly to Li
"Of course-how stupid of me. You're Tim Allerton. This is my husband" a faint tremor in the voicc prideshyness? "and this is my American trustee, Mr.
Pe
Tim said:
"You must meet my mother."
A few minutes later they were sitting together in a party. Li
Mrs. Allerton talked to Simon Doyle.
The swing doors revolved. A sudden tension came into the beautiful upright figure sitting in the corner between the two men. Then it relaxed as a small man came out and walked across the terrace.
Mrs. Allerton said:
"You're not the only celebrity here, my dear. That fu
She had spoken lightly, just out of instinctive social tact to bridge an awkward pause, but Li
"Hercule Poirot? Of courseI've heard of him… "
She seemed to sink into a fit of abstraction. The two men on either side of her were momentarily at a loss.
Poirot had strolled across to the edge of the terrace, but his attention was immediately solicited.
"Sit down, M. Poirot. What a lovely night."
He obeyed.
"Mais oui, Madame, it is indeed beautiful."
He smiled politely at Mrs. Otterbourne. What draperies.of black ninon and that ridiculous turban effect!
Mrs. Otterbourne went on in her high complaining voice.
"Quite a lot of notabilities here now, aren't there? I expect we shall see a paragraph about it in the papers soon. Society beauties, famous novelists-" She paused with a slight mock modest laugh.