“What's wrong with my proposition?" Poirot rose. "If you will forgive me for being personal-I do not like your face, M. Ratchett.”

“You've a pretty good nerve," said Ratchett. "Will twenty thousand dollars tempt you?"It will not."If you're holding out for more, you won't get it. I know what a thing's worth to me."I, also M. Ratchett."What's wrong with my proposition?"Poirot rose. "If you will forgive me for being personal - I do not like your face, M. Ratchett," he said.”

“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.”

“What are you doing, Poirot?""I dissect rucksacks. It is very interesting.”

“I've heard that you're the cat's whiskers, M. Poirot.""Comment? The cat's whiskers? I do not understand.""Well that you're It.""Madame, I may or may not have brains - as a matter of fact I have - why pretend?”

“That is what I mean. A bath! The receptacle of porcelain, one turns the taps and fills it, one gets in, one gets out and ghoosh - ghoosh - ghoosh, the water goes down the waste pipe!""M. Poirot are you quite mad?""No, I am extremely sane.”

“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!”