"Thanks to you." said Sarah.

"He becomes very eminent, your husband. I read today an excellent review of his last book."

"It's really rather good-although I do say it! Did you know that Carol and Jefferson Cope had made a match of it at last? And Lennox and Nadine have got two of the nicest children-cute, Raymond calls them. As for Jinny-well, I rather think Jinny's a genius."

She looked across the table at the lovely face and the red-gold crown of hair, and then she gave a tiny start. For a moment her face was grave. She raised her glass slowly to her lips.

"You drink a toast, Madame?" asked Poirot.

Sarah said slowly: "I thought-suddenly-of Her. Looking at Jinny I saw-for the first time-the likeness. The same thing-only Jinny is in light-where She was in darkness…"

And from opposite, Ginevra said unexpectedly: "Poor Mother… She was queer… Now that we're all so happy I feel kind of sorry for her. She didn't get what she wanted out of life. It must have been tough for her."

Almost without a pause, her voice quivered softly into the lines from Cymbeline while the others listened spellbound to the music of them:

Fear no more the heat o' the sun,

Nor the furious winters rages;

Thou thy worldly task hast done,

Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages…