First, sweet tarts dare to combine sweet and tart, but they didn't stop there.

Now they've combined soft and bouncy to bring you new sweet tarts, gummy fruity splits.

A uniquely delicious dual-sided gummy with one side that's sweet, and the other side that's tart.

But entirely smooth and squishy.

A powerfully perfect combo.

Sweet tarts dare to combine.

To my extreme annoyance, Poirot was not in, and the old Belgian who answered my knock informed me that he believed he'd gone to London.

I was dumbfounded.

What on earth could Poirot be doing in London?

Was it a sudden decision on his part, or had he already made up his mind when he parted from me a few hours earlier?

I retraced my steps to styles and some annoyance. With Poirot away, I was uncertain how to act.

Had he foreseen this arrest? Had he not, and all probability been the cause of it?

Those questions I could not resolve.

But in the meantime, what was I to do?

Should I announce the arrest openly at styles, or not?

Though I did not acknowledge it to myself, the thought of Mary Cavendish was weighing on me.

Would it not be a terrible shock to her? For the moment I set aside utterly any suspicions of her.

She could not be implicated, otherwise I should have heard some hint of it.

Of course, there is no possibility of being able permanently to conceal Dr. Bauer's scenes arrest from her, who would be announced in every newspaper on the morrow.

Still, I shrank from blurting it out. If only Poirot had been accessible, I could have asked his advice.

What possessed him to go posting off to London in this unaccountable way?

In spite of myself, my opinion if his sagacity was a measurably heightened.

...