Agatha Christie

inclined to underestimate my mental capacities. But his pleasure was so evident

pretty mare’s nest you’ve got us into this time,” Japp was saying. “It’s too bad of you, M. Poirot. …

It was really this last named trait of hers which was causing me these pangs of indecision.

which turns out to be a common or garden chilblain

parchment. Picking up a pen she dipped it in the inkstand

he remarked disparagingly, indicating the disembarking passengers

hammering on a door. Dora Bunner, who had been sobbing

It is odd to find oneself, after a lapse of twenty-five years, back doing the same job.