Labours Of Hercules By Agatha Christie

you must have a little patience said hercule poirot

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Unformatted text preview: rk Mews looking up at the numbers. It was past one o'clock in the morning and for the most part the Mews appeared to have gone to bed, though there were still lights in one or two windows. As he reached 17, its door opened and Dr. Stoddart stood looking out. "Good man!" he said. "Come up, will you ?" A small ladder-like stairway led to the upper floor. Here, on the right, was a fairly big room, furnished with divans, rugs, triangular silver cushions and large numbers of bottles and glasses. Everything was more or less in con292 fusion, cigarette ends were everywhere and there were many broken glasses. "Ha!" said Hercule Poirot. ^Mon cher Watson, I deduce that there has been here a party!" "There's been a party all right," said Stoddart grimly. "Some party, I should say!" "You did not, then, attend it yourself?" "No, I'm here strictly in my professional capacity." "What happened ?" Stoddart said: "This place belongs to a woman called Patience Grace — Mrs. Patience Grace." "It sounds," said Poirot, "a charming old-world name." "There's nothing charming or old-world about Mrs. Grace. She's good-looking in a tough sort of way. She's got through a couple of husbands, and now she's got a boy friend whom she suspects of trying to run out on her. They started this party on drink and they finished it on dope— cocaine, to be exact. Cocaine is stuff that starts off making you feel just grand and with everything in the garden lovely. It peps you up and you feel you can do twice 293 as much as you usually do. Take too much of it and you get violent mental excitement, delusions and delirium. Airs. Grace had a violent quarrel with her boy friend, an unpleasant person by the name of Hawker. Result, he walked out on her then and there, and she leaned out of the window and took a pot-shot at him with a brandnew revolver that someone had been fool enough to give her." Hercule Poirot's eyebrows rose. "Did she hit him?" "Not she! Bullet went several yards wide, I should say. What she did hit was a miserable loafer who was creeping along the Mews looking in the dustbins. Got him through the fleshy part of the arm. He raised Hell, of course, and the crowd hustled him in here quick, got the windup with all the blood that was spilling out of him and came round and got me." "Yes ?" "I patched him up all right. It wasn't serious. Then one or two of the men got busy on him and in the end he consented to accept a couple of five pound notes and say no more about it. Suited him all right, poor devil. Marvellous stroke of luck." 294 "And you?33 "I had a bit more work to do. Mrs. Grace herself was in raving hysterics by that time. I gave her a shot of something and packed her off to bed. There was another girl who'd more or less passed out — quite young she was, and I attended to her too. By that time ever...
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This note was uploaded on 07/28/2011 for the course LITERATURE 101 taught by Professor Agathachristie during the Spring '11 term at Heritage.

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