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.

The things young women read nowadays and profess to enjoy positively frighten me.

To count - really and truly to count - a woman must have goodness or brains.

The heart of a woman who loves will forgive many blows.

There hung about her the restrained energy of a whiplash.

Don't think. That is the wrong way to bring anything back. Let it go. Sooner or later it will flash into your mind.

There is no question of defence. I have always acted in accordance with the dictates of my conscience. I have nothing with which to reproach myself.