hat； smiled reassuringly at the millionaire； and left the room。 Nevertheless； as he went down the stairs some of the confidence faded from his face。
〃It is all very well；〃 he murmured to himself； 〃but there are difficulties。 Yes； there are great difficulties。〃 As he was passing out of the hotel he came to a sudden halt。 A car had drawn up in front of the door。 In it was Katherine Grey； and Derek Kettering was standing beside it talking to her earnestly。
A minute or two later the car drove off and Derek remained standing on the pavement looking after it。 The expression on his face was an odd one。 He gave a sudden impatient gesture of the shoulders； sighed deeply； and turned to find Hercule Poirot standing at his elbow。 In spite of himself he started。 The two men looked at each other。 Poirot steadily and unwaveringly and Derek with a kind of light…hearted defiance。 There was a sneer behind the easy mockery of his tone when he spoke； raising his eyebrows slightly as he did so。
〃Rather a dear； isn't she？〃 he asked easily。
His manner was perfectly natural。
〃Yes；〃 said Poirot thoughtfully； 〃that describes Mademoiselle Katherine very well。 It is very English； that phrase there； and Mademoiselle Katherine； she also is very English。〃
Derek remained perfectly still without answering。
〃And yet she is sympathique； is it not so？〃
〃Yes；〃 said Derek； 〃there are not many like her。〃
He spoke softly； almost as though to himself。 Po