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- Агата Кристи
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- Стр. 122/214
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“
Why
?
”
“
Because
,
my
friend
,
something
has
happened
.
”
“
What
sort
of
thing
?
How
do
you
know
?
”
I
asked
curiously
.
Poirot
smiled
.
“
A
few
moments
ago
the
manager
came
hurriedly
out
of
his
office
and
ran
upstairs
.
He
was
much
agitated
.
The
lift
-
boy
is
deep
in
talk
with
one
of
the
pages
.
The
lift
-
bell
has
rung
three
times
,
but
he
heeds
it
not
.
Thirdly
,
even
the
waiters
are
distrait
;
and
to
make
a
waiter
distrait
—
—
”
Poirot
shook
his
head
with
an
air
of
finality
.
“
The
affair
must
indeed
be
of
the
first
magnitude
.
Ah
,
it
is
as
I
thought
!
Here
come
the
police
.
”
Two
men
had
just
entered
the
hotel
—
one
in
uniform
,
the
other
in
plain
clothes
.
They
spoke
to
a
page
,
and
were
immediately
ushered
upstairs
.
A
few
minutes
later
,
the
same
boy
descended
and
came
up
to
where
we
were
sitting
.
“
Mr
.
Opalsen
’
s
compliments
,
and
would
you
step
upstairs
.
”
Poirot
sprang
nimbly
to
his
feet
.
One
would
have
said
that
he
awaited
the
summons
.
I
followed
with
no
less
alacrity
.
The
Opalsens
’
apartments
were
situated
on
the
first
floor
.
After
knocking
on
the
door
,
the
page
-
boy
retired
,
and
we
answered
the
summons
,
“
Come
in
!
”
A
strange
scene
met
our
eyes
.
The
room
was
Mrs
.
Opalsen
’
s
bedroom
,
and
in
the
centre
of
it
,
lying
back
in
an
arm
-
chair
,
was
the
lady
herself
,
weeping
violently
.
She
presented
an
extraordinary
spectacle
,
with
the
tears
making
great
furrows
in
the
powder
with
which
her
complexion
was
liberally
coated
.
Mr
.
Opalsen
was
striding
up
and
down
angrily
.
The
two
police
officials
stood
in
the
middle
of
the
room
,
one
with
a
notebook
in
hand
.
An
hotel
chambermaid
,
looking
frightened
to
death
,
stood
by
the
fire
-
place
;
and
on
the
other
side
of
the
room
a
Frenchwoman
,
obviously
Mrs
.
Opalsen
’
s
maid
,
was
weeping
and
wringing
her
hands
,
with
an
intensity
of
grief
that
rivalled
that
of
her
mistress
.
