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VAlfred came out on the terrace. Lydia was bending over a stone sink. She straightened up whenshe saw him.He said with a sigh:“Well—they’ve all gone.”Lydia said:“Yes—what a blessing1.”“It is, rather.”Alfred said:“You’ll be glad to leave here.”She asked:“Will you mind very much?”“No, I shall be glad. There are so many interesting things we can do together. To live on herewould be to be constantly reminded of that nightmare. Thank God it’s all over!”Lydia said:“Thanks to Hercule Poirot.”“Yes. You know, it was really amazing the way everything fell into place when he explainedit.”“I know. Like when you finish a jigsaw2 puzzle and all the queer-shaped bits you swear won’tfit in anywhere find their places quite naturally.”Alfred said:“There’s one little thing that never fitted in. What was George doing after he telephoned?Why wouldn’t he say?”“Don’t you know? I knew all the time. He was having a look through your papers on yourdesk.”“Oh! No, Lydia, no one would do a thing like that!”