He looked at me again curiously. “I wonder just what you mean by that,” he said thoughtfully. “Ah! no,” as I was about to speak. “ Inutile! You would not tell me your real thought.”

“Everyone has something to hide,” I quoted, smiling.

“Exactly.”

“You still believe that?”

“More than ever, my friend. But it is not easy to hide things from Hercule Poirot. He has a knack of finding out.”

He descended the steps of the Dutch garden as he spoke.

“Let us walk a little,” he said over his shoulder. “The air is pleasant today.”