wife) knew that well enough. She didn't

say anything to me. Just sent off the money

—in one-pound notes as stipulated—to

the address given."

"And the dog was returned ?"

"Yes. That evening the bell rang and

there was the little brute sitting on the

doorstep. And not a soul to be seen."

"Perfectly. Continue."

"Then, of course, Milly confessed what

she'd done and I lost my temper a bit.

However, I calmed down after a while —

after all, the thing was done and you can't

expect a woman to behave with any sense

—and I daresay I should have let the

whole thing go if it hadn't been for meeting

old Samuelson at the Club."

"Yes ?"

"Damn it all, this thing must be a

positive racket! Exactly the same thing had

happened to him. Three hundred pounds

20

they'd rooked his wife of! Well, that was a

bit too much. I decided the thing had got to

be stopped. I sent for you."

"But surely. Sir Joseph, the proper

thing (and a very much more inexpensive

thing) would have been to send for the

police ?"

Sir Joseph rubbed his nose.

He said:

"Are you married, Mr. Poirot ?"

"Alas," said Poirot, "I have not that

felicity."

"H'm," said Sir Joseph. "Don't know

about felicity, but if you were, you'd know

that women are funny creatures. My wife

went into hysterics at the mere mention of

the police — she'd got it into her head that

something would happen to her precious

Shan Tung if I went to them. She wouldn't

hear of the idea—and I may say she

doesn't take very kindly to the idea of your

being called in. But I stood firm there and

at last she gave way. But, mind you, she

doesn't like it."

Hercule Poirot murmured:

"The position is, I perceive, a delicate

one. It would be as well, perhaps, if I were

to interview Madame your wife and gain

21

further particulars from her whilst at the

same time reassuring her as to the future

safety of her dog ?53

Sir Joseph nodded and rose to his feet.

He said:

"I'll take you along in the car right away.33

II

In a large, hot, ornately-furnished drawingroom

two women were sitting.

As Sir Joseph and Hercule Poirot entered, a small Pekinese dog rushed forward, barking furiously, and circling dangerously

round Poirot's ankles.

"Shan --Shan, come here. Come here

to mother, lovey--Pick him up. Miss

Carnaby."

The second woman hurried forward and

Hercule Poirot murmured:

"A veritable lion, indeed."

Rather breathlessly Shan Tung's captor

agreed.

"Yes, indeed, he's such a good watchdog.

He's not frightened of anything or any one.

There's a lovely boy, then.33

Having performed the necessary introduction, Sir Joseph said:

"Well, Mr. Poirot, I'll leave you to get on

22

with it," and with a short nod he left the

room.

Lady Hoggin was a stout, petulantlooking

woman with dyed henna red hair.

Her companion, the fluttering Miss Carnaby, was a plump, amiable-looking creature between forty and fifty. She treated Lady