“I don't believe this. How can he not want to go to the Savoy? God, it's all right for top businessmen, isn't it? Free champagne, yawn, yawn. Goody bags, yet another party, yawn, how tedious and dull.”

“A party like this isn't about the surprise factor. It's about someone going to so much trouble that it just... overwhelms you.”

“It's his mother's birthday? But he didn't tell me. I don't have a card. I don't have a gift. How could he do this to me?Men are crap.”

“I'm never going to believe a Poirot mystery again. Never. All those witnesses going, "Yes, I remember it was 3:06 p.m. exactly, because I glanced at the clock as I reached for the sugar tongs, and Lady Favisham was quite clearly sitting on the right-hand side of the fireplace."Bollocks. They have no idea where Lady Favisham was, they just don't want to admit it in front of Poirot. I'm amazed he gets anywhere.”

“Except...I do. Of course I do. Because as his hands gently cup my waist, I don't make a sound. As he swivels me around to face him, I don't make a sound. I don't need to. We're still talking. Every touch he makes, every imprint of his skin is like another word, another thought, a continuation of our conversation. And we're not done yet. Not yet.”

“He told me it was love at first sight!" shoots back Annalise. "How do you explain that? He told me you were instantly attracted to each other and he wanted to ravish you right there on the couch. He said he'd never known anything so sexy as you in your uniform."I'm going to shoot Magnus. What did he have to say that for?”

“I've never felt so bereft and panicky. What do I do without my phone? How do I function? My hand keeps automatically reaching for my phone in its usual place in my pocket. Every instinct in me wants to text someone, 'OMG, I've lost my phone!' but how can do that without a bloody phone?”