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"
Tonight
.
"
"
Splendid
!
I
,
too
.
That
is
to
say
,
I
go
as
far
as
Lausanne
,
where
I
have
affairs
.
You
travel
on
the
Simplon-Orient
,
I
presume
?
"
"
Yes
.
I
have
just
asked
them
to
get
me
a
sleeper
.
It
was
my
intention
to
remain
here
some
days
,
but
I
have
received
a
telegram
recalling
me
to
England
on
important
business
.
"
"
Ah
!
"
sighed
M.
Bouc
.
"
Les
affaires
--
les
affaires
!
But
you
--
you
are
at
the
top
of
the
tree
nowadays
,
mon
vieux
!
"
"
Some
little
success
I
have
had
,
perhaps
.
"
Hercule
Poirot
tried
to
look
modest
but
failed
signally
.
Bouc
laughed
.
"
We
will
meet
later
,
"
he
said
.
Hercule
Poirot
addressed
himself
to
the
task
of
keeping
his
moustaches
out
of
the
soup
.
That
difficult
task
accomplished
,
he
glanced
round
him
whilst
waiting
for
the
next
course
.
There
were
only
about
half
a
dozen
people
in
the
restaurant
,
and
of
those
half-dozen
there
were
only
two
that
interested
Hercule
Poirot
.
These
two
sat
at
a
table
not
far
away
.
The
younger
was
a
likeable-looking
man
of
thirty
,
clearly
an
American
.
It
was
,
however
,
not
he
but
his
companion
who
had
attracted
the
little
detective
's
attention
.
