Mrs. Lorrimer said:
“Is anything the matter?”
Anne started guiltily.
“The matter? Oh, no, what should be the matter?”
“You were looking as though you had something on your mind.”
“I haven’t—well, at least I have, but it’s nothing important, something quite silly.” She laughed a little.
She went on:
“It’s only that I thought I saw my friend—the girl I live with—go in there, and I wondered if she’d gone to see Mrs. Oliver.”
“Is that where Mrs. Oliver lives? I didn’t know.”
“Yes. She came to see us the other day and she gave us her address and asked us to come and see her. I wondered if it was Rhoda I saw or not.”
“Do you want to go up and see?”
“No, I’d rather not do that.”
“Come and have tea with me,” said Mrs. Lorrimer. “There is a shop quite near here that I know.”
“It’s very kind of you,” said Anne, hesitating.
Side by side they walked down the street and turned into a side street. In a small pastry cook’s they were served with tea and muffins.
They did not talk much. Each of them seemed to find the other’s silence restful.
Anne asked suddenly:
“Has Mrs. Oliver been to see you?”
Mrs. Lorrimer shook her head.
“No one has been to see me except M. Poirot.”
“I didn’t mean—” began Anne.
“Didn’t you? I think you did,” said Mrs. Lorrimer.
The girl looked up—a quick, frightened glance. Something she saw in Mrs. Lorrimer’s face seemed to reassure her.
“He hasn’t been to see me,” she said slowly.
There was a pause.
“Hasn’t Superintendent Battle been to see you?” asked Anne.
“Oh, yes, of course,” said Mrs. Lorrimer.
Anne said hesitatingly:
“What sort of things did he ask you?”
Mrs. Lorrimer sighed wearily.