“Yes, yes,” my little friend continued. “Once more shall I be myself again, the great Hercule Poirot, the terror of evildoers! Figure to yourself, mon ami , that I have a little paragraph to myself in Society Gossip . But yes! Here it is! ‘Go it⁠—criminals⁠—all out! Hercule Poirot⁠—and believe me, girls, he’s some Hercules!⁠—our own pet society detective can’t get a grip on you. ’Cause why? ’Cause he’s got la grippe himself’!”

I laughed.

“Good for you, Poirot. You are becoming quite a public character. And fortunately you haven’t missed anything of particular interest during this time.”

“That is true. The few cases I have had to decline did not fill me with any regret.”

Our landlady stuck her head in at the door.