Agatha Christie The Hollow Chapter I At 6:13 a.m. ... - bzelbublive.info

Chapter XVIIIhercule poirot looked out of his windowand saw Henrietta Savernake walking up the path to the front door. She waswearing the same green tweeds that she had worn on the day of the tragedy. Therewas a spaniel with her. He hastened to the front door and opened it. Shestood smiling at him. "May I come in and see your house? I like looking at people'shouses. I'm just taking the dog for a walk." "But most certainly. How English it isto take the dog for a walk!" "I know," said Henrietta. "I thought of that. Doyou know that nice poem: 'The days passed slowly one by one. I fed the ducks, reprovedmy wife, played Handel's Largo on the fife. And took the dog a run.'" Again shesmiled--a brilliant, unsubstantialsmile. Poirot ushered her into his sitting room. She looked round its neat andprim arrangement and nodded her head. "Nice," she said, "two of everything.How you would hate my studio." "Why should I hate it?" "Oh, a lot of claysticking to things--and here and there just one thing that I happen to like andwhich would be ruined if there were two of them." "But I can understand that.Mademoiselle. You are an artist." "Aren't you an artist too, M. Poirot?"Poirot put his head on one side. "It is a question, that. But, on the whole, I would say no.I have known crimes that were artistic--they were, you understand, supreme exercisesofimagination--but the solving of them--no, it is not the creative power that is needed.What is required is a passion for the truth." "A passion for the truth," saidHenrietta meditatively. "Yes, I can see how dangerous that might make you. Wouldthe truth satisfy you?" He looked at her curiously. "What do you mean. MissSavernake?" "I can understand that you would want to know. But would knowledgebe enough? Would you have to go a step further and translate knowledge intoaction?" He was interested in her approach. "You are suggesting that if I knew thetruth about Dr. Christow's death--I might be satisfied to keep that knowledge to myself.Do you know the truth about his death?" Henrietta shrugged her shoulders."The obvious answer seems to be Gerda. How cynical it is that a wife or a husband isalways the first suspect." "But you do not agree?" "I always like to keep an openmind." Poirot said quietly: "Why did you come here. Miss Saver - nake?""I must admit that I haven't your passion for truth, M. Poirot. Taking the dog for awalk was such a nice English countryside excuse. But, of course, the Angkatells haven'tgot a dog--as you may have noticed the other day." "The fact had not escapedme.""So I borrowed the gardener's spaniel. I am not, you must understand, M. Poirot,very truthful." Again that brilliant, brittle smile flashed out. He wondered why he