—he who said that I was a human oyster. Eh bien, Mademoiselle, I have met my match in you. You, far more than I, play a lone hand."
"Nonsense," said Katherine lightly.
"Never does Hercule Poirot talk nonsense. It is as I say."
Again there was a silence. Poirot broke it by inquiring:
"Have you seen any of our Riviera friends since you have been back, Mademoiselle?"
"I have seen something of Major Knighton."
"A-ha! Is that so?"
Something in Poirot's twinkling eyes made Katherine lower hers.
"So Mr. Van Aldin remains in London?"
"Yes."
"I must try to see him to-morrow or the next day."
"You have news for him?"
"What makes you think that?"
"I—wondered, that is all."
Poirot looked across at her with twinkling eyes.
"And now, Mademoiselle, there is much that you wish to ask me, I can see that. And why not? Is not the affair of the Blue Train our own 'Roman Policier?"
“"Yes, there are things I should like to ask you."
"Eh bien?"
Katherine looked up with a sudden air of resolution.
"What were you doing in Paris, Monsieur Poirot?"
Poirot smiled slightly.
"I made a call at the Russian Embassy."
"Oh."
"I see that that tells you nothing. But I will not be a
