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“
Good
heavens
,
Poirot
!
”
I
cried
.
“
What
is
the
matter
?
Are
you
taken
ill
?
”
“
No
,
no
,
”
he
gasped
.
“
It
is
—
it
is
—
that
I
have
an
idea
!
”
“
Oh
!
”
I
exclaimed
,
much
relieved
.
“
One
of
your
‘
little
ideas
’
?
”
“
Ah
,
ma
foi
,
no
!
”
replied
Poirot
frankly
“
This
time
it
is
an
idea
gigantic
!
Stupendous
!
And
you
—
you
,
my
friend
,
have
given
it
to
me
!
”
Suddenly
clasping
me
in
his
arms
,
he
kissed
me
warmly
on
both
cheeks
,
and
before
I
had
recovered
from
my
surprise
ran
headlong
from
the
room
.
Mary
Cavendish
entered
at
that
moment
.
“
What
is
the
matter
with
Monsieur
Poirot
?
He
rushed
past
me
crying
out
:
‘
A
garage
!
For
the
love
of
Heaven
,
direct
me
to
a
garage
,
madame
!
’
And
,
before
I
could
answer
,
he
had
dashed
out
into
the
street
.
”
I
hurried
to
the
window
.
True
enough
,
there
he
was
,
tearing
down
the
street
,
hatless
,
and
gesticulating
as
he
went
.
I
turned
to
Mary
with
a
gesture
of
despair
.
“
He
’
ll
be
stopped
by
a
policeman
in
another
minute
.
There
he
goes
,
round
the
corner
!
”
