"A pleasant day, Georges, somewhat fatiguing, but not without interest,” he said.
George received these remarks in his usual wooden fashion.
"Indeed, sir."
"The personality of a criminal, Georges, is an interesting matter. Many murderers are men of great personal charm."
"I always heard, sir, that Dr. Crippen was a pleasant-spoken gentleman. And yet he cut up his wife like so much mincemeat."
"Your instances are always apt, Georges."
The valet did not reply, and at that moment the telephone rang. Poirot took up the receiver.
"'Allo—'allo{—yes, yes, it is Hercule Poirot who speaks."
"This is Knighton. Wi;; you hold the line a minute, M. Poirot? Mr. Van Aldin would like to speak to you."
There was a moment's pause, then the millionaire's voice came through.
"Is that you, M. Poirot? I just wanted to tell you that Mason came to me now of her own accord. She has been thinking it over, and she says that she is almost certain that the man at Paris was Derek Kettering. There was something familiar about him at the time, she says, but at the minute she could not place it. She seems pretty certain now."
"Ah," said Poirot, "thank you, M. Van Aldin. That advances us."
He replaced the receiver, and stood for a minute or two with a very curious smile on his face. George had to speak to him twice before obtaining an answer.
