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"
That
happens
?
"
"
It
has
occurred
,
yes
.
Not
this
year
,
as
yet
.
"
"
Let
us
hope
,
then
,
"
said
M.
Poirot
.
"
The
weather
reports
from
Europe
,
they
are
bad
.
"
"
Very
bad
.
In
the
Balkans
there
is
much
snow
.
"
"
In
Germany
too
,
I
have
heard
.
"
"
Eh
bien
,
"
said
Lieutenant
Dubosc
hastily
as
another
pause
seemed
to
be
about
to
occur
.
"
Tomorrow
evening
at
seven-forty
you
will
be
in
Constantinople
.
"
"
Yes
,
"
said
M.
Poirot
,
and
went
on
desperately
,
"
La
Sainte
Sophie
,
I
have
heard
it
is
very
fine
.
"
"
Magnificent
,
I
believe
.
"
Above
their
heads
the
blind
of
one
of
the
sleeping
car
compartments
was
pushed
aside
and
a
young
woman
looked
out
.
Mary
Debenham
had
had
little
sleep
since
she
left
Baghdad
on
the
preceding
Thursday
.
Neither
in
the
train
to
Kirkuk
,
nor
in
the
Rest
House
at
Mosul
,
nor
last
night
on
the
train
had
she
slept
properly
.
Now
,
weary
of
lying
wakeful
in
the
hot
stuffiness
of
her
overheated
compartment
,
she
got
up
and
peered
out
.
