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"
Imagine
to
yourself
the
time
I
have
had
with
her
!
She
insists
--
but
insists
--
that
there
is
a
man
in
her
compartment
!
Figure
to
yourself
,
Monsieur
.
In
a
space
of
this
size
.
"
He
swept
a
hand
round
.
"
Where
would
he
conceal
himself
?
I
argue
with
her
.
I
point
out
that
it
is
impossible
.
She
insists
.
She
woke
up
and
there
was
a
man
there
.
And
how
,
I
ask
,
did
he
get
out
and
leave
the
door
bolted
behind
him
?
But
she
will
not
listen
to
reason
.
As
though
,
there
were
not
enough
to
worry
us
already
.
This
snow
--
"
"
Snow
?
"
"
But
yes
,
Monsieur
.
Monsieur
has
not
noticed
?
The
train
has
stopped
.
We
have
run
into
a
snowdrift
.
Heaven
knows
how
long
we
shall
be
here
.
I
remember
once
being
snowed
up
for
seven
days
.
"
"
Where
are
we
?
"
"
Between
Vincovi
and
Brod
.
"
"
Là
là
,
"
said
Poirot
vexedly
.
The
man
withdrew
and
returned
with
the
water
.
"
Bon
soir
,
Monsieur
.
"
Poirot
drank
a
glass
of
water
and
composed
himself
to
sleep
.
He
was
just
dropping
off
when
something
again
woke
him
.
This
time
it
was
as
though
something
heavy
had
fallen
with
a
thud
against
the
door
.
