Elephants Can Remember

"Anything else you have learned?" "Yes, I have learned-that is, only a few hours ago really- when Superintendent Garroway happened to ring me up about some other small matters, but I did ask him and he told me that the housekeeper, who was elderly, had very bad eyesight." "Does that come into it anywhere?" "It might," said Poirot. He looked at his watch. "I think," he said, "it is time that I left." "You are on your way to catch your plane at the airport?" "No. My plane does not leave until tomorrow morning. But there is a place I have to visit today-a place that I wish to see with my own eyes. I have a car waiting outside now to take me there-" "What is it you want to see?" Mrs. Oliver asked with some curiosity.

"Not so much to see-to feel. Yes, that is the right word-to feel and to recognize what it will be that I feel…"

Chapter XVIII. Interlude

Hercule Poirot passed through the gate of the churchyard.

He walked up one of the paths, and presently, against a mossgrown wall, he stopped, looking down on a grave. He stood there for some minutes looking first at the grave, then at the view of the Downs and sea beyond. Then his eyes came back again. Flowers had been put recently on the grave. A small bunch of assorted wild flowers, the kind of bunch that might have been left by a child, but Poirot did not think that it was a child who had left them. He read the lettering on the grave.

TO THE MEMORY OF DOROTHEA JARROW Died Sept. 15th, 1952 ALSO OF MARGARET RAVENSCROFT Died Oct. 3rd, 1952 SISTER OF ABOVE ALSO OF ALISTAIR RAVENSCROFT Died Oct. 3rd, 1952 HER HUSBAND In their Death they were not divided Forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those that trespass against us.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

Christ, have mercy upon us.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

Poirot stood there a moment or two. He nodded his head once or twice. Then he left the churchyard and walked by a footpath that led out on to the cliff and along it. Presently he stood still again, looking out to the sea. He spoke to himself.

"I am sure now that I know what happened and why. I understand the pity of it and the tragedy. One has to go back such a long way. In my end is my begi

Chapter XIX. Maddy And Zelie

"Mademoiselle Rouselle?" said Hercule Poirot. He bowed.

Mademoiselle Rouselle extended her hand. About fifty, Poirot thought. A fairly imperious woman. Would have her way.

Intelligent, intellectual, satisfied, he thought, with life as she had lived it, enjoying the pleasures and suffering the sorrows life brings.

"I have heard your name," she said. "You have friends, you know, both in this country and in France. I do not know exactly what I can do for you. Oh, I know that you explained, in the letter that you sent me. It is an affair of the past, is it not?

Things that happened. Not exactly things that happened, but the clue to things that happened many, many years ago. But sit down. Yes. Yes, that chair is quite comfortable, I hope.

There are some petits fours and the decanter is on the table." She was quietly hospitable without any urgency. She was unworried but amiable.

"You were at one time a governess in a certain family," said Poirot. "The Ravenscrofts. Perhaps now you hardly remember them." "Oh, yes, one does not forget, you know, things that happen when you were young. There was a girl, and a boy about four or five years younger in the family I went to. They were nice children. Their father was a general in the Army." "There was also another sister." "Ah, yes, I remember. She was not there when I first came.

I think she was delicate. Her health was not good. She was having treatment somewhere." "You remember their mother's Christian name?" "Margaret, I think was one. The other one I am not sure of by now." "Dorothea." "Ah, yes. A name I have not often come across. But they called each other by shorter names. Molly and Dolly. They were identical twins, you know, remarkably alike. They were both very handsome young women." "And they were fond of each other?" "Yes, they were devoted. But we are, are we not, becoming slightly confused? Preston-Grey is not the name of the children I went to teach. Dorothea Preston-Grey married a major-ah, I ca

"Ah, that. Yes. Curious how one ca

The Preston-Greys are a generation older. Margaret PrestonGrey had been in a pensio

"And the boy was only about three or four. His name was Edward. A mischievous but lovable child. I was happy with them." "And they were happy, I hear, with you. They enjoyed playing with you and you were very kind in your playing with them." "Moi,j'aime les enfants," said Mademoiselle Rouselle.

"They called you Maddy, I believe." She laughed.

"Ah, I like hearing that word. It brings back past memories." "Did you know a boy called Desmond? Desmond BurtonCox?" "Ah, yes. He lived, I think, in a house next door or nearly next door. We had several neighbors and the children very often came to play together. His name was Desmond. Yes, I remember." "You were there long, mademoiselle?" "No. I was only there for three or four years at most. Then I was recalled to this country. My mother was very ill. It was a question of coming back and nursing her, although I knew it would not be perhaps for very long. That was true. She died a year and a half or two years at the most after I returned here.

After that I started a small pensio

Was the twin sister also devoted to her?" "Well, I had not very much occasion of judging. Frankly, I thought that the sister-Dolly, as they called her-was very definitely a mental case. Once or twice she acted in a very peculiar ma