Damned nonsense! Damned nonsense, every word of it! Was I or was I not in attendance in this case?
Indeed. All I...
Did I or did I not say the first day I went to see Mrs. Pengelley, gastritis? Yes! Did I ever waver from that diagnosis? No, I did not!
But this is undoubtedly...
This town is a hotbed of gossip. A lot of scandal-mongering old women get together and invent God knows what.
But the fact remains...
They read these scurrilous rags of newspapers, and nothing will suit them better but that someone from their town should be poisoned, too.
But Madame Pengelley...
Why should anyone want to poison her?
Dr. Adams, will you please listen to me?
Why? I'm telling you.
It was yesterday that Mme. Pengelley came to London in order to consult me. She believed she was being poisoned.
Never.
Ah, Hastings, do you hear that? Now I am a liar, hein? Dr. Adams, please, allow me. Madame Pengelley believed that her husband was the poisoner.
Rubbish. I know Edward Pengelley. Wouldn't poison his grandmother's dog.
But it is not the dog of Madame Pengelley's grandmother that has been poisoned! Madame Pengelley believed that her husband had fallen in love with his receptionist.
Fallen in love?
Yes.
Edward Pengelley isn't the sort of man to fall in love. We play golf together. Never been in love in his life. Damn fine dentist, too. I'll be blunt with you, Mr. Poirot. We in Polgarwith don't need you outsiders coming in spreading your tittle-tattle.
All I am trying to tell you, Monsieur le Docteur, is what Madame Pengelley thought.
If she thought that, she must have gone mad. She should have come to me. I'd have told her.
And have all her fears ridiculed?
Ridiculed? Certainly not. I have an open mind, I hope.
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