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“
French
chalk
?
”
“
Yes
,
cabinet
-
makers
use
it
to
make
drawers
run
smoothly
.
”
I
laughed
.
“
You
old
sinner
!
I
thought
you
were
working
up
to
something
exciting
.
”
“
Au
revoir
,
my
friend
.
I
save
myself
.
I
fly
!
”
The
door
shut
behind
him
.
With
a
smile
,
half
of
derision
,
half
of
affection
,
I
picked
up
the
coat
,
and
stretched
out
my
hand
for
the
clothes
-
brush
.
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
The
next
morning
,
hearing
nothing
from
Poirot
,
I
went
out
for
a
stroll
,
met
some
old
friends
,
and
lunched
with
them
at
their
hotel
.
In
the
afternoon
we
went
for
a
spin
.
A
punctured
tyre
delayed
us
,
and
it
was
past
eight
when
I
got
back
to
the
Grand
Metropolitan
.
The
first
sight
that
met
my
eyes
was
Poirot
,
looking
even
more
diminutive
than
usual
,
sandwiched
between
the
Opalsens
,
beaming
in
a
state
of
placid
satisfaction
.
