“No, my friend, I am not drunk. I have just been to the dentist, and need not return for another six months! Is it not the most beautiful thought?--Poirot”

“Poirot," I said. "I have been thinking.""An admirable exercise my friend. Continue it.”

“Pas encore. Qa m'amuse.""Really, Poirot!""Yes, my friend. I grow old and childish, do I not?”

“My dear Poirot, it's not for me to dictate to you. You have a right to your own opinion, just as I have mine.”

“And yet," said Poirot, "suppose an accident-""Ah, no, my friend-""From your point of view it would be regrettable, I agree. But nevertheless let us just for one moment suppose it. Then, perhaps, all these here are linked together - by death.”

“Hercule Poirot: I am an imbecile. I see only half of the picture. Miss Lemon: I don't even see that.”

“Poirot was standing in the larder in a dramtic attitude. In his hand he was brandishing a leg of mutton.'My dear Poirot! What is the matter? have you gone mad?''Regard i pray you this mutton! But regard it closely!”