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Bewildered
,
the
woman
smiled
in
spite
of
herself
.
"
Yes
,
indeed
,
all
my
ladies
have
said
so
.
I
--
"
She
stopped
,
her
mouth
open
,
looking
frightened
again
.
"
No
,
no
,
"
said
Poirot
.
"
I
assure
you
all
is
well
.
See
,
I
will
tell
you
how
this
happened
.
This
man
,
the
man
you
saw
in
Wagon
Lit
uniform
,
comes
out
of
the
dead
man
's
compartment
.
He
collides
with
you
.
That
is
bad
luck
for
him
.
He
has
hoped
that
no
one
will
see
him
.
What
to
do
next
?
He
must
get
rid
of
his
uniform
.
It
is
now
not
a
safeguard
,
but
a
danger
.
"
His
glance
went
to
M.
Bouc
and
Dr.
Constantine
,
who
were
listening
attentively
.
"
There
is
the
snow
,
you
see
.
The
snow
which
confuses
all
his
plans
.
Where
can
he
hide
these
clothes
?
All
the
compartments
are
full
.
No
,
he
passes
one
where
the
door
is
open
and
shows
it
to
be
unoccupied
.
It
must
be
the
one
belonging
to
the
woman
with
whom
he
has
just
collided
.
He
slips
in
,
removes
the
uniform
and
jams
it
hurriedly
into
a
suitcase
on
the
rack
.
It
may
be
some
time
before
it
is
discovered
.
"
"
And
then
?
"
said
M.
Bouc
.
"
That
we
must
discuss
,
"
said
Poirot
with
a
warning
glance
.
He
held
up
the
tunic
.
A
button
,
the
third
down
,
was
missing
.
Poirot
slipped
his
hand
into
the
pocket
and
took
out
a
conductor
's
pass
key
,
used
to
unlock
the
doors
of
the
compartments
.
