Ted said more slowly:

"Yes, sir."

"Then do you not think — perhaps — "

Ted Williamson interrupted him.

"What you're meaning, sir, is that I fell

for her but she didn't fall for me ? Maybe

that's true in a way.... But she liked me —

she did like me — it wasn't just a bit of fun

to her. . . . And I've been thinking, sir,

as there might be a reason for all this. You

see, sir, it was a funny crowd she was

mixed up in. She might be in a bit of

trouble, if you know what I mean."

"You mean she might have been going

to have a child ? Your child ?"

''N01 mine, sir." Ted flushed. "There

wasn't nothing wrong between us."

Poirot looked at him thoughtfully. He

murmured:

"And if what you suggest is true — you

still want to find her ?"

ll3

The colour surged up in Ted Williamson's

face. He said:

"Yes, I do, and that's flat! I want to

marry her if she'll have me. And that's no

matter what kind of a jam she's in! If

you'll only try and find her for me, sir ?"

Hercule Poirot smiled. He said, murmuring

to himself:

cc ^air like wings of gold.' Yes, I think

this is the third Labour of Hercules. . . .

If I remember rightly, that happened in

Arcady. ..."

II

Hercule Poirot looked thoughtfully at the

sheet of paper on which Ted Williamson

had laboriously inscribed a name and

address.

Miss Valetta, 17 Upper Renfrew Lane,

N.15.

He wondered if he would learn anything

at that address. Somehow he fancied not.

But it was the only help Ted could give

him.

No. 17 Upper Renfrew Lane was a

dingy but respectable street. A stout

woman with bleary eyes opened the door to

Poirot's knock.

114

"Miss Valetta ?33

"Gone away a long time ago, she has."

Poirot advanced a step into the doorway

just as the door was about to close.

"You can give me, perhaps, her

address ?33

"Couldn't say, I'm sure. She didn't

leave one.33

"When did she go away ?33

"Last summer it was.33

"Can you tell me exactly when ?33

A gentle clinking noise came from

Poirot's right hand where two half-crowns

jostled each other in friendly fashion.

The bleary-eyed woman softened in an

almost magical manner. She became

graciousness itself.

"Well, I'm sure I'd like to help you, sir.

Let me see now. August, no, before that

—July—yes, July it must have been.

About the first week in July. Went off

m a hurry, she did. Back to Italy, I believe.33

"She was an Italian, then ?33

'That's right, sir.33

"And she was at one time lady's-maid

to a Russian dancer, was she not ?33

'That's right. Madame Semoulina or

some such name. Danced at the Thespian

ii5

in this Bally everyone's so wild about.

One of the stars, she was."

Poirot said:

"Do you know why Miss Valetta left