“So-so,” said Mr. Aarons non-committally. “Taking the rough with the smooth, it is all right. I don’t do so badly at it, all things considered, but you have to keep your eyes skinned. Never know what the public will jump for next.”

“Dancing has come very much to the fore in the last few years,” murmured Poirot reflectively.

“ I never saw anything in this Russian ballet, but people like it. Too highbrow for me.”

“I met one dancer out on the Riviera⁠—Mademoiselle Mirelle.”

“Mirelle? She is hot stuff, by all accounts. There is always money going to back her⁠—though, so far as that goes, the girl can dance; I have seen her, and I know what I am talking about. I never had much to do with her myself, but I hear she is a terror to deal with. Tempers and tantrums all the time.”