“Until M. Poirot here came to me, I imagined that I was the only man in England who had. Make no mistake, M. Desjardeaux, there is only one man in China who counts today⁠—Li Chang Yen. He has, perhaps, I only say perhaps, the finest brain in the world at the present time.”

M. Desjardeaux sat as though stunned. Presently, however, he rallied.

“There may be something in what you say, M. Poirot,” he said coldly. “But as regards Madame Olivier, you are most certainly mistaken. She is a true daughter of France, and devoted solely to the cause of science.”

Poirot shrugged his shoulders and did not answer.