“Well sir, as near as I can remember, she said: ‘Mason, I’ve got to alter my plans. Something has happened—I mean, I’m not getting out here after all. I must go on. Get out the luggage and put it in the cloak-room; then have some tea, and wait for me in the station.’ “‘Wait for you here, ma’am?’ I asked. “‘Yes, yes. Don’t leave the station. I shall return by a later train. I don’t know when. It mayn’t be until quite late.’ “‘Very well, ma’am,’ I says. It wasn’t my place to ask questions, but I thought it very strange.” “It was unlike your mistress, eh?” “Very unlike her, sir.” “What did you think?” “Well sir, I thought it was to do with the gentleman in the carriage. She didn’t speak to him, but she turned round once or twice as though to ask him if she was doing right.” “But you didn’t see the gentleman’s face?” “No sir; he stood with his back to me all the time.” “Can you describe him at all?” “He had on a light fawn overcoat, and a traveling cap. He was tall and slender, like, and the back of his head was dark.” “You didn’t know him?” “Oh, no, I don’t think so, sir.” “It was not your master, Mr. Carrington, by any chance?” Mason looked rather startled. “Oh! I don’t think so, sir!” “But you are not _sure_?” “It was about the master’s build, sir—but I never thought of it being him. We so seldom saw him. I couldn’t say it _wasn’t_ him!” Poirot picked up a pin from the carpet, and frowned at it severely; then he continued: “Would it be possible for the man to have entered the train at Bristol before you reached the carriage?” Mason considered. “Yes sir, I think it would. My compartment was very crowded, and it was some minutes before I could get out—and then there was a very large crowd on the platform, and that delayed me too. But he’d only have had a minute or two to speak to the mistress, that way. I took it for granted that he’d come along the corridor.” “That is more probable, certainly.” He paused, still frowning. “You know how the mistress was dressed, sir?” “The papers give a few details, but I would like you to confirm them.” “She was wearing a white fox fur toque, sir, with a white spotted veil, and a blue frieze coat and skirt—the shade of blue they call electric.” “H’m, rather striking.” “Yes,” remarked Halliday. “Inspector Japp is in hopes that that may help us to fix the spot where the crime took place. Anyone who saw her would remember her.” “_Précisément!_ —Thank you, mademoiselle.” The maid left the room. “Well!” Poirot got up briskly. “That is all I can do here—except, monsieur, that I would ask you to tell me everything—but _everything_!” “I have done so.” “You are sure?” “Absolutely.” “Then there is nothing more to be said. I must decline the case.” “Why?” “Because you have not been frank with me.” “I assure you—” “No, you are keeping something back.” * * * * *