hercule poirots eyes twinkled.


    "it is true, yes, i have one leg in the grave."


    "i - i wasnt thinking of you," said the girl. "im sorry. that sounded rude."


    "not at all. it is natural you should wish forpanions of your own age. ah, well, there is one young man, at least."


    "the one who sits with his mother all the time? i like her - but i think he looks dreadful - so conceited!"


    poirot sniffed.


    "and i - am i conceited?"


    "oh, i dont think so."


    射 was obviously uninterested - but the fact did not seem to annoy poirot. he merely remarked with cid satisfaction, "my best friend says that i am very conceited."


    "oh, well," said rosalie vaguely, "i suppose you have something to be conceited about. unfortunately crime doesnt interest me in the least."


    poirot said solemnly, "i am delighted to learn that you have no guilty secret to hide."


    just for a moment the sulky mask of her face was transformed as 射 shot him a swift questioning nce. poirot did not seem to notice it as he went on: "madame, your mother, was not at lunch today. 射 is not indisposed, i trust?"


    "this ce doesnt suit her," said rosalie briefly. "i shall be d when we leave."


    "we are fellow passengers, are we not? we both make the excursion up to wвdi halfa and the second cataract?"


    "yes."


    they came out from the shade of the gardens onto a dusty stretch of road bordered by the river. five watchful bead sellers, two vendors of postcards, three sellers of ster scarabs, a couple of donkey boys and some detached but hopeful infantile riff-raff closed in upon them. "you want beads, sir? very good, sir. very cheap."


    &quotdy, you want scarab? look - great queen - very lucky."


    "you look, sir - realpis. very good, very cheap..."


    "you want ride donkey, sir? this very good donkey. this donkey whisky and soda, sir..."


    "you want to go granite quarries, sir? this very good donkey. other donkey very bad, sir, that donkey fall down..."


    "you want postcard - very cheap - very nice..."


    "look,dy... only ten piastres - very ivory..."


    "this very good fly whisk - this - all amber."


    "you go out in boat, sir? i got very good boat, sir."


    "you ride back to hotel,dy? this first ss donkey."


    hercule poirot made vague gestures to rid himself of this human cluster of flies. rosalie stalked through them like a sleep walker.


    "its best to pretend to be deaf and blind," 射 remarked.


    the infantile riff-raff ran alongside murmuring intively: "bakshish? bakshish? hip hip hurrah - very good, very nice..."


    their gaily coloured rags trailed picturesquely, and the fliesy in clusters on their eyelids. they were the most persistent. the others fell back andunched a fresh attack on the nexter.


    now poirot and rosalie only ran the gauntlet of the shops - suave, persuasive ents here...


    "you visit my shop today, sir?"


    "you want that ivory crocodile, sir?"


    "you not been in my shop yet, sir? i show you very beautiful things."


    they turned into the fifth shop and rosalie handed over several rolls of films - the object of the walk.


    then they came out again and walked toward the rivers edge.


    one of the nile steamers was just mooring. poirot and rosalie looked interestedly at the passengers.


    "quite a lot, arent there?"mented rosalie.


    射 turned her head as tim allerton came up and joined them. he was a little out of breath as though he had been walking fast.


    they stood there for a moment or two and then tim spoke.


    "an awful crowd as usual, i suppose," he remarked disparagingly, indicating the disembarking passengers.


    "theyre usually quite terrible," agreed rosalie.


    all three wore the air of superiority assumed by people who are already in a ce when studying new arrivals.


    "hullo!" eximed tim, his voice suddenly excited. "im damned if that isnt li ridgeway."


    if the information left poirot unmoved, it stirred rosalies interest. 射 leaned forward and her sulkiness quite dropped from her as 射 asked:


    "where? that one in white?"


    "yes, there with the tall man. theyreing ashore now. hes the new husband, i suppose. cant remember her name now."


    "doyle," said rosalie. "simon doyle. it was in all the newspapers. 射s simply rolling, isnt 射?"


    "only about the richest girl in ennd," replied tim cheerfully.


    the three lookers-on were silent watching the passengerse ashore.


    poirot gazed with interest at the subject of the remarks of hispanions. he murmured, "射 is beautiful."


    "some people have got everything," said rosalie bitterly.


    there was a queer grudging expression on her face as 射 watched the other girle up the gangnk.


    li doyle was looking as perfectly turned out as if 射 were stepping onto the centre of the stage of a revue. 射 had something too of the assurance of a famous actress. 射 was used to being looked at, to being admired, to being the centre of the stage wherever 射 went.

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