Elephants Can Remember

As Monsieur Poirot here has said, it was a real tragedy of two people who loved each other. But they didn't kill each other, because they loved each other. One was murdered and the other executed a murderer for the sake of humanity so that more children shouldn't suffer. One can forgive him if he was wrong, but I don't think it was wrong, really." "She was a frightening woman always," said Celia. "Even when I was a child I was frightened of her, but I didn't know why. But I do know why now. I think my father was a brave man to do what he did. He did what my mother asked him to do, begged him to do with her dying breath. He saved her twin sister, whom I think she'd always loved very dearly. I like to think-oh, it seems a silly thing for me to say-" she looked doubtfully at Hercule Poirot. "Perhaps you won't think so. I expect you're a Catholic, but it's what's written on their tombstone. 'In death they were not divided.' It doesn't mean that they died together, but I think they are together. I think they came together afterwards. Two people who loved each other very much, and my poor aunt whom I'll try to feel more kindly about than I ever did-my poor aunt didn't have to suffer for what she couldn't perhaps help herself doing. Mind you," said Celia, suddenly breaking into her ordinary everyday voice, "she wasn't a nice person. You can't help not liking people if they're not nice people. Perhaps she could have been different if she tried, but perhaps she couldn't. And if so, one has to think of her as someone who was very ill-like somebody, for instance, who had plague in a village and they wouldn't let her go out or feed her and she couldn't go among other people because the whole village would have died. Something like that. But I'll try and be sorry for her. And my mother and father-I don't worry about them any more. They loved each other so much, and loved poor, unhappy, hating Dolly." "I think, Celia," said Desmond, "we'd better get married now as soon as possible. I can tell you one thing. My mother is never going to hear anything about this. She's not my own mother and she's not a person I can trust with this sort of secret." "Your adopted mother, Desmond," said Poirot, "I have good reason to believe was anxious to come between you and Celia and tried to influence you in the idea that from her mother and father she might have inherited some terrible characteristic. But you know, or you may not know and I see no reason why I should not tell you, you will inherit from the woman who was your real mother and who died not very long ago leaving all her money to you. You will inherit a very large sum when you reach the age of twenty-five." "If I marry Celia, of course we shall need the money to live on," said Desmond. "I quite understand, I know my fcresent adopted mother is very keen on money and I often lend her money even now. She suggested my seeing a lawyer th^ other day because she said it was very dangerous now that: I was over twenty-one, not leaving a will behind me. I supp(}se she thought she'd get the money. I had thought of probably leaving nearly all the money to her. But of course now Celia and I are getting married I shall leave it to Celia-and I didn't like the way my mother tried to put me against Celia." "I think your suspicions are entirely correct," said Poirot.

"I dare say she could tell herself that she meant it all for the best, that Celia's origin is something that you ought t() know if there is a risk for you to take, but-" "All right," said Desmond, "but-I know I'm being Unkind.

After all, she adopted me and brought me up and all the rest of it, and I dare say if there's enough money I can settle some of it on her. Celia and I will have the rest and we're going to be happy together. After all, there are things that'll make us feel sad from time to time, but we shan't worry any more, shall we, Celia?" "No," said Celia, "we'll never worry again. I think they were rather splendid people, my mother and father. Mother tried to look after her sister all her life, but I suppose if was a bit too hopeless. You can't stop people from being like they are." "Ah, dear children," said Zeiie. "Forgive me for calling you children, because you are not. You are a grown man and Vyoman.

I know that. I am so pleased to have seen you again and to know I have not done any harm in what I did." "You haven't done any harm at all and it's lovely seeing you, dear Zeiie." Celia went to her and hugged her. "I've always been terribly fond of you," she said.

"And I was very fond of you, too, when I knew you," said Desmond. "When I lived next door. You had lovely games you played with us." The two young people turned.

"Thank you, Mrs. Oliver," said Desmond. "You've been very kind and you've put in a lot of work. I can see that.

Thank you, Monsieur Poirot." "Yes, thank you," said Celia. "I'm very grateful." They walked away and the others looked after them.