XIV

Pilar came into the room with the wariness¹ of an animal who suspects a trap. Her eyes went

quickly from side to side. She looked not so much afraid as deeply suspicious.

Colonel Johnson rose and put a chair for her. Then he said:

“You understand English, I suppose, Miss Estravados?”

Pilar’s eyes opened wide. She said:

“Of course. My mother was English. I am really very English indeed.”

A faint smile came to Colonel Johnson’s lips, as his eyes took in the black gloss² of her hair,

the proud dark eyes, and the curling red lips. Very English! An incongruous term to apply to Pilar

Estravados.

He said:

“Mr. Lee was your grandfather. He sent for you to come from Spain. And you arrived a few

days ago. Is that right?”

Pilar nodded.

“That is right. I had—oh! a lot of adventures getting out of Spain—there was a bomb from

the air and the chauffeur³ he was killed—where his head had been there was all blood. And I could

not drive a car, so for a long way I had to walk—and I do not like walking. I never walk. My feet

were sore—but sore—”

Colonel Johnson smiled. He said:

“At any rate you arrived here. Had your mother spoken to you of your grandfather much?”

Pilar nodded cheerfully.

“Oh, yes, she said he was an old devil.”

Hercule Poirot smiled. He said:

“And what did you think of him when you arrived, mademoiselle?”

Pilar said:

“Of course he was very, very old. He had to sit in a chair—and his face was all dried up. But

I liked him all the same. I think that when he was a young man, he must have been handsome—

very handsome, like you,” said Pilar to Superintendent⁴ Sugden. Her eyes dwelt with näive

pleasure on his handsome face, which had turned brick-red at the compliment.

Colonel Johnson stifled⁵ a

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