Chapter 36 Chapter Thirty-Six On the Beach

The flowers of the silk tree have withered.Geraniums surrounded Lady Templin's cottage, and luxuriant lilacs gave off a rich fragrance.The Mediterranean Sea is bluer than ever.Poirot sat on the balcony with Miss Reynolds Templin.He had just finished telling the story of the unmasking of the mysterious man known as "the Marquis."Reynolds listened nervously and with interest, word for word, with a slightly melancholy expression. When Poirot finished his story, she asked only: "And Derek?" "He was released yesterday." "Has he gone to Marymede?" "Yes, go."

After a while, the girl said stubbornly: "I thought at the time that Caterina's pursuit of Derek would not succeed, and I guessed wrong." "You trust no one." "She can trust me," Reynolds whispered in a pained tone. "Yes," said Poirot gravely. "She may want to believe you. But Caterina has been submissive for the greater part of her life. If a man is accustomed to obeying others, it is not so easy for him to express what he sees. She hides her sorrows and joys." In the bottom of my heart, there is no one to share it with." "I'm so stupid," Reynolds complained to himself. "I thought at the time that she might be in love with Knighton. I was all thinking of the best. Maybe this kind of thinking is completely unnecessary. Forget it, let's not talk about it."

Poirot took her hand, held it firmly, and said in a friendly and gentle way: "Look up, miss." Reynolds looked at the sea in the distance, her plain and serious face instantly showed a layer of sad beauty. "My God," she said at last, "it's how it ends. I'm too young for Derek, and he's a youth forever. He needs a Madonna." Another long silence.Then Reynolds said abruptly to the detective: "Did I help you, M. Poirot?" "Exactly. I got a clue to the truth through you, when you pointed out that the murderer did not have to be a passenger on the train."

Reynolds took a deep breath. "I'm relieved about that. It's the only comfort." The whistle of the train came from a distance, and the sound dragged on for a long time. "This is the cursed 'Blue Express'," Reynolds said. "Trains are always frightening. They're a monstrous thing, don't you, Poirot? Someone's been assassinated in a train, and the train runs on, on time. . . . Ah, I'm talking nonsense again." "I understand what you mean, young lady. Life is a train. It goes on, and it's always good to go on. You're young, and you have the best qualities of a young man, and you have a chance to roam the roads of life, And, you can get off wherever you like. But for you, there will be a time to live like the 'Blue Express'."

"I, too, can have misfortune in my life and die prematurely." "Life will take you to the other side of the light, to the one you love." "How do you know?" "How dare you doubt my words?" He suddenly yelled at Reynolds, which startled Reynolds. But the look in his eyes told him that his growling was an affectation.Hercule Poirot's eyes were not cat's eyes now, but eyes full of kindness, intelligence and understanding. "Please trust Uncle Poirot. I know everything. This is my profession." (End)