the last supper

so sharp just now，but you'd hardly believe the worry one has to put upwith-fellows coming along selling this，that and the other-vacuum cleaners，stockings，lavender bags and such-like foolery-and all so plausible andcivil spoken.Got your name，too，pat they have.It's Mrs Fowler this，thatand the other." Seizing adroitly on the name，Poirot said: "Well，Mrs Fowler，I hope you're going to do what I ask." "Idon't know，I'm sure."The five pounds hung alluringly before MrsFowler's eyes."I knew Mrs Ascher，of course，but as to writing anything."
Hastily Poirot reassured her.No labour on her part was required.He wouldelicit the facts from her and the interview would be written up. Thus encouraged，Mrs Fowler plunged willingly into reminiscence，conjecture and hearsay. Kept herself to herself，Mrs Ascher had.Not what you'd call reallyfriendly，but there，she'd had a lot of trouble，poor soul，everyone knewthat.And by rights Franz Ascher ought to have been locked up years ago.Not