duce you to Monsieur Hercule Poirot, of whom you must often have heard, and his friend, Captain Hastings."
Ridgeway looked very astonished.
"Of course I have heard of you, Monsieur Poirot," he said, as he shook hands. "But I had no idea that Esmée was thinking of consulting you about my—our trouble."
"I was afraid you would not let me do it, Philip," said Miss Farquhar meekly.
"So you took care to be on the safe side," he observed, with a smile. "I hope Monsieur Poirot will be able to throw some light on this extraordinary puzzle, for I confess frankly that I am nearly out of my mind with worry and anxiety about it."
Indeed, his face looked drawn and haggard and showed only too clearly the strain under which he was labouring.
"Well, well," said Poirot. "Let us lunch, and over lunch we will put our heads together and see what can be done. I want to hear Mr. Ridgeway's story from his own lips."
Whilst we discussed the excellent steak and kidney pudding of the establishment, Philip Ridgeway narrated the circumstances leading to
