‘I see.’

Japp nodded comprehendingly. Miss Plenderleith’s replies had all been crisp and convincing.

Poirot in his turn put a question.

‘What is your own opinion of Mr Laverton-West?’

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

‘Does that matter?’

‘No, it does not matter, perhaps, but I should like to have your opinion.’

‘I don’t know that I’ve thought about him one way or the other. He’s young—not more than thirty-one or two—ambitious—a good public speaker—means to get on in the world.’

‘That is on the credit side—and on the debit?’

‘Well,’ Miss Plenderleith considered for a moment or two. ‘In my opinion he’s commonplace—his ideas are not particularly original—and he’s slightly pompous.’

‘Those are not very serious faults, mademoiselle,’ said Poirot, smiling.

‘Don’t you think so?’

Her tone was slightly ironic.

‘They might be to you.’

He was watching her, saw her look a little disconcerted. He pursued his advantage.

‘But to Mrs Allen—no, she would not notice them.’

‘You’re perfectly right. Barbara thought he was wonderful—took him entirely at his own valuation.’

Poirot said gently:

‘You were fond of your friend?’

He saw the hand clench on her knee, the tightening of the line of the jaw, yet the answer came in a matter-of-fact voice free from emotion.

‘You are quite right. I was.’

Japp said:

‘Just one other thing, Miss Plenderleith. You and she didn’t have a quarrel? There was no upset between you?’

‘None whatever.’

‘Not over this engagement business?’

‘Certainly not. I was glad she was able to be so happy about it.’

There was a momentary pause, then Japp said:

‘As far as you know, did Mrs Allen have any enemies?’

This time there was a definite interval before Jane Plenderleith replied. When she did so, her tone had altered very slightly.

‘I don’t know quite what you mean by enemies?’

‘Anyone, for instance, who would profit by her death?’

‘Oh, no, that would be ridiculous. She had a very small income anyway.’

‘And who inherits that income?’

Jame Plenderleith’s voice sounded mildly surprised as she said:

‘Do you know, I really don’t know. I shouldn’t be surprised if I did. That is, if she ever made a will.’

‘And no enemies in any other sense?’ Japp slid off to another aspect quickly. ‘People with a grudge against her?’

‘I don’t think anyone had a grudge against her. She was a very gentle creature, always anxious to please. She had a really sweet, lovable nature.’

For the first time that hard, matter-of-fact voice broke a little. Poirot nodded gently.

Japp said:

‘So it amounts to this—Mrs Allen has been in good spirits lately, she wasn’t in any financial difficulty, she was engaged to be married and was happy in her engagement. There was nothing in the world to make her commit suicide. That’s right, isn’t it?’

There was a momentary silence before Jane said:

‘Yes.’

Japp rose.

‘Excuse me, I must have a word with Inspector Jameson.’

He left the room.

Hercule Poirot remained tête àtête with Jane Plenderleith.