With an effort the Duchess recovered her pose. “I will take the call. Hang up the extension.” She picked up the telephone near her. Only a close observer would have noticed that her hands were trembling.
Duchess: The Duchess of Croydon speaking.
Correspondent: Ma’am, we’ve a flash from Associated Press and there’s just been a follow-up… Pardon me. (There was a rustle of paper, then the voice resuming.) Sorry, ma’am. I’ll read this to you. “ London (AP) — Parliamentary sources here to-day name the Duke of Croydon, noted British government trouble shooter[145], as Britain’s next ambassador to Washington. Initial reaction is favourable. An official announcement is expected soon.” There’s more, ma’am. I won’t bother you with it. Why we called was to see if your husband has a statement, then with your permission we’d like to send a photographer to the hotel. Ma’am, are you still there?
Duchess: Yes. At the moment my husband has no statement, nor will he have unless and until the appointment is officially confirmed. The same applies to photography.
Correspondent (the voice sounded disappointed): We’ll run what we have[146], of course, in the next edition.
Duchess: That is your privilege.
Correspondent: Meanwhile, if there’s an official announcement we’d like to be in touch.
Duchess: Should that occur, I’m sure my husband will be glad to meet the press.
Correspondent: Then we may telephone again?
Duchess: Please do.
8. Giving Advice
(to be taken with “Inquiries”)
After lunch, as Poirot was settling himself in his square-backed armchair with his coffee at his elbow, the telephone rang.
Mrs Oliver: Monsieur Poirot?
Mr Poirot: C’est moi[147].
Mrs Oliver: Well, what are you doing? What have you done?
Mr Poirot: I am sitting in this chair. Thinking.
Mrs Oliver: Is that all?
Mr Poirot: It is the important thing. Whether I shall have success in it or not I do not know.
Mrs Oliver: But you must find that girl. She’s probably been kidnapped.
Mr Poirot: It would certainly seem so. And I have a letter here which came by the midday post from her father, urging me to come and see him and tell him what progress I have made.
Mrs Oliver: Well, what progress have you made?
Mr Poirot: At the moment none.
Mrs Oliver: Really, Monsieur Poirot, you really must take a grip on yourself[148].
Mr Poirot: You, too!
Mrs Oliver: What do you mean, me, too?
Mr Poirot: Urging me on.
Mrs Oliver: Why don’t you go down to that place in Chelsea where I was hit on the head?
