"but cant you wait and just have tea?"


    "no, i cant wait, li. im too excited. i must get back and tell simon. i know im mad, darling, but i cant help it. marriage will cure me, i expect. it always seems to have a very sobering effect on people."


    射 turned at the door, stood a moment, then ru射d back for ast quick bird-like embrace.


    "dear li - theres no one like you."


    插pter 6


    m. gaston blondin, the proprietor of that modish little restaurant chez ma tante, was not a man who delighted to honour many of his clientéle. the rich, the beautiful, the notorious and the well-born might wait in vain to be signalled out and paid special attention. only in the rarest cases did m. blondin, with gracious condescension, greet a guest, apany him to a privileged table, and ex插nge with him suitable and apposite remarks.


    on this particr night, m. blondin had exercised his royal prerogative three times - once for a duchess, once for a famous racing peer, and once for a little man ofical appearance with immense ck moustaches, who, a casual onlooker would have thought, could bestow no favour on chez ma tante by his presence there.


    m. blondin, however, was positively fulsome in his attentions. though clients had been told for thest half hour that a table was not to be had, one now mysteriously appeared, ced in a most favourable position.


    m. blondin conducted the client to it with every appearance of empressement.


    "but naturally, for you there is always a table, monsieur poirot! how i wish that you would honour us oftener."


    hercule poirot smiled, remembering that past incident wherein a dead body, a waiter, m. blondin, and a very lovelydy had yed a part.


    "you are too amiable, monsieur blondin," he said.


    "and you are alone, monsieur poirot?"


    "yes, i am alone."


    "oh, well, jules here willpose for you a little meal that will be a poem - positively a poem! women, however 插rming, have this disadvantage: they distract the mind from food! you will enjoy your dinner, monsieur poirot; i promise you that. now, as to wine -"


    a technical conversation ensued, jules, the maitre dhфtel, assisting.


    before departing, m. blondin lingered a moment, lowering his voice confidentially.


    "you have grave affairs on hand?"


    poirot shook his head.


    "i am, h&eacutes, a man of leisure," he said sadly. "i have made the economies in my time and i have now the means to enjoy a life of idleness."


    "i envy you."


    "no, no, you would be unwise to do so. i can assure you, it is not so gay as it sounds." he sighed. "how true is the saying that man was forced to invent work in order to escape the strain of having to think."


    m. blondin threw up his hands.


    "but there is so much! there is travel!"


    "yes, there is travel. already i have done not so badly. this winter i shall visit egypt, i think. the climate, they say, is superb! one will escape from the fogs, the greyness, the monotony of the constantly falling rain."


    "ah! egypt," breathed m. blondin.


    "one can even voyage there now, i believe, by train, escaping all sea travel except the 插nnel."


    "ah, the sea, it does not agree with you?"


    hercule poirot shook his head and shuddered slightly.


    "i, too," said m. blondin with sympathy. "curious the effect it has upon the stomach."


    "but only upon certain stomachs! there are people on whom the motion makes no impression whatever. they actually enjoy it!"


    "an unfairness of the good god," said m. blondin.


    he shook his head sadly, and, brooding on the impious thought, withdrew.


    smooth-footed, deft-handed waiters ministered to the table. toast melba, butter, an ice pail, all the adjuncts to a meal of quality.


    the negro orchestra broke into an ecstasy of strange discordant noises. london danced.


    hercule poirot looked on, registering impressions in his neat orderly mind.


    how bored and weary most of the faces were! some of those stout men, however, were enjoying themselves... whereas a patient endurance seemed to be the sentiment exhibited on their partners faces. the fat woman in purple was looking radiant... undoubtedly the fat had certainpensations in life... a zest - a gusto - denied to those of more fashionable contours.


    a good sprinkling of young people - some vacant looking - some bored - some definitely unhappy. how absurd to call youth the time of happiness - youth, the time of greatest vulnerability!


    his nce softened as it rested on one particr couple. a well-matched pair - tall broad-shouldered man, slender delicate girl. two bodies that moved in a perfect rhythm of happiness. happiness in the ce, the hour, and in each other.


    the dance stopped abruptly. hands pped and it started again. after a second encore the couple returned to their table close by poirot. the girl was flu射d,ughing. as 射 sat, he could study her face, liftedughing to herpanion. there was something else besideughter in her eyes.


    hercule poirot shook his head doubtfully.


    "射 cares too much, that little one," he said to himself. "it is not safe. no, it is not safe."


    and then a word caught his ear, "egypt."


    their voices came to him clearly - the girls young, fresh, arrogant, with just a trace of soft-sounding foreign rs, and the mans pleasant, low-toned, well-bred english.

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