intangible and unpossessable dream. It was warmth, permanence, stability that was his real need. It was daily companionship and love and laughter at Ainswick.
She thought. What Edward needs is someone to light a fire on his hearth-and I am the person to do that.
Edward looked up. He saw Midge's face bending over him, the warm colouring of the skin, the generous mouth, the steady eyes and the dark hair that lay back from her forehead like two wings.
He saw Henrietta always as a projection from the Past. In the grown woman he sought and wanted only to see the seventeenyear-old girl he had first loved. But now, looking up at Midge, he had a queer sense of seeing a continuous Midge-he saw the schoolgirl with her winged hair springing back into two pigtails, he saw its dark waves framing her face now and he saw exactly how those wings would look when the hair was not dark any longer but grey…
Midge, he thought, is real… the only real thing I have ever known… He felt the warmth of her, and the strength-dark, positive, alive, real! Midge, he thought, is the rock on which I can build my life…
He said, 'Darling Midge, I love you so, never leave me again…'
She bent down to him and he felt the warmth of her lips on his, felt her love enveloping him, shielding him, and happiness flowered in that cold desert where he had lived alone so long…
Suddenly Midge said, with a shaky laugh-'Look, Edward, a black beetle has come out to look at us. Isn't he a nice black beetle?
I never thought I could like a black beetle so much!'
She added dreamily:
'How odd life is. Here we are sitting on the floor in a kitchen that still smells of gas all amongst the black beetles and feeling that it's heaven.'
He murmured dreamily:
'I could stay here forever.'
'We'd better go and get some sleep. It's four o'clock. How on earth are we to explain that broken window to Lucy?'
Fortunately, Midge reflected, Lucy was an extraordinarily easy person to explain things to.
Taking a leaf out of Lucy's own book, Midge went into her room at six o'clock.
She made a bald statement of fact:
'Edward went down and put his head in the gas oven in the night,' she said. 'Fortunately I heard him and went down after him. I broke the window because I couldn't get it open quickly.'
Lucy, Midge had to admit, was wonderful.
She smiled sweetly with no sign of surprise.
'Dear Midge,' she said, 'you are always so practical. I'm sure you will always be the greatest comfort to Edward.'
After Midge had gone Lady Angkatell lay thinking. Then she got up and went into her husband's room, which for once was unlocked.
'Henry.'
'My dear Lucy! It's not cock-crow yet.'
'No, but listen. Henry, this is really important.
We must have electricity installed to cook by and get rid of that gas stove.'
'Why, it's quite satisfactory, isn't it?'
'Oh, yes, dear. But it's the sort of thing that gives people ideas, and everybody mightn't be as practical as dear Midge.'
She flitted elusively away. Sir Henry turned over with a grunt. Presently he awoke with a start just as he was dozing off.
'Did I dream it,' he murmured, 'or did Lucy come in and start talking about gas stoves?'
Outside in the passage. Lady Angkatell went into the bathroom and put a kettle on the gas ring. Sometimes, she knew, people liked an early cup of tea… Fired with selfapproval, she returned to bed and lay back on her pillows, pleased with life and with herself.
Edward and Midge at Ainswick-the inquest over- She would go and talk to M. Poirot again. A nice little man…
Suddenly another idea flashed into her head. She sat upright in bed.
'I wonder now,' she speculated, 'if she has thought of that?'
She got out of bed and drifted along the passage to Henrietta's room, beginning her remarks as usual long before she was within earshot.
'-and it suddenly came to me, dear, that you might have overlooked that.'
Henrietta murmured sleepily:
'For heaven's sake, Lucy, the birds aren't up yet!'
'Oh, I know, dear, it is rather early, but it seems to have been a very disturbed night-Edward and the gas stove, and Midge and the kitchen window-and thinking of what to say to M. Poirot and everything-'
'I'm sorry, Lucy, but everything you say sounds like complete gibberish… Can't it wait?'
'It was only the holster, dear. I thought, you know, that you might not have thought about the holster.'
'Holster?' Henrietta sat up in bed. She was suddenly wide awake. 'What's this about a holster?'
'That revolver of Henry's was in a holster, you know. And the holster hasn't been found. And, of course, nobody may think of it-but on the other hand somebody might-'
Henrietta swung herself out of bed. She said:
'One always forgets something-that's what they say! And it's true!'
Lady Angkatell went back to her room.
She got into bed and quickly went fast asleep.
The kettle on the gas ring boiled and went on boiling…
Chapter XXIX
Gerda rolled over to the side of the bed and sat up.
Her head felt a little better now but she was still glad that she hadn't gone with the others on the picnic. It was peaceful and almost comforting to be alone in the house for a bit.
Elsie, of course, had been very kind-very kind-especially at first. To begin with, Gerda had been urged to stay in bed for breakfast, trays had been brought up to her.
Everybody urged her to sit in the most comfortable armchair, to put her feet up, not to do anything at all strenuous.
They were all so sorry for her about John.
She had stayed, cowering gratefully in that protective dim haze. She hadn't wanted to think, or to feel, or to remember.
But now, every day, she felt it coming nearer-she'd have to start living again, to decide what to do, where to live. Already Elsie was showing a shade of impatience in her manner. 'Oh, Gerda, don't be so slow!'
It was all the same as it had been-long ago, before John came and took her away.
They all thought her slow and stupid. There was nobody to say, as John had said, 'I'll look after you.'
Her head ached and Gerda thought, I'll make myself some tea.
She went down to the kitchen and put the kettle on. It was nearly boiling when she heard a ring at the front door.
The maids had been given the day out.
Gerda went to the door and opened it. She was astonished to see Henrietta's rakishlooking car drawn up to the curb and Henrietta herself standing on the doorstep.
'Why, Henrietta!' she exclaimed. She fell back a step or two. 'Come in. I'm afraid my sister and the children are out but-'
Henrietta cut her short.
'Good. I'm glad. I wanted to get you alone. Listen, Gerda, what did you do with the holster?'
