Labours Of Hercules By Agatha Christie

Poirot stared at the board thoughtfully for some

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Unformatted text preview: good soul. Not, of course, precisely intellectual." Hercule Poirot agreed that Miss Camaby could not, perhaps be described as intellectual. His next proceeding was to discover the Park Keeper to whom Miss Camaby had spoken on the fateful afternoon. This he did without much difficulty. The man remembered the incident in question. "Middle-aged lady, rather stout -- in a regular state she was -- lost her Pekinese dog. I knew her well by sight -- brings the dog along most afternoons. I saw her come in with it. She was in a rare taking when she lost it. Came running to me to know if I'd 29 seen any one with a Pekinese dog! Well, I ask you! I can tell you, the Gardens is full of dogs -- every kind -- terriers, Pekes, German sausage-dogs -- even them Borzois --all kinds we have. Not likely as Pd notice one Peke more than another." Hercule Poirot nodded his head thoughtfully. He went to 38 Bloomsbury Road Square. Nos. 383 39 and 40 were incorporated together as the Balaclava Private Hotel. Poirot walked up the steps and pushed open the door. He was greeted inside by gloom and a smell of cooking cabbage with a reminiscence of breakfast kippers. On his left was a mahogany table with a sad-looking chrysanthemum plant on it. Above the table was a big baize-covered rack into which letters were stuck. Poirot stared at the board thoughtfully for some minutes. He pushed open a door on his right. It led into a kind of lounge with small tables and some so-called easy-chairs covered with a depressing pattern of cretonne. Three old ladies and one fierce-looking old gentleman raised their heads and gazed at the intruder with deadly venom. Hercule Poirot blushed and withdrew. 30 He walked farther along the passage and came to a staircase. On his right a passage branched at right angles to what was evidently the dining-room. A little way along this passage was a door marked "office". On this Poirot tapped. Receiving no response, he opened the door and looked in. There was a large desk in the room covered with papers but there was no one to be seen. He withdrew, closing the door again. He penetrated to the dining-room. A sad-looking girl in a dirty apron was shuffling about with a basket of knives and forks with which she was laying the tables. Hercule Poirot said apologetically: "Excuse me, but could I see the Manageress ?" The girl looked at him with lacklustre eyes. She said: "I don't know, I'm sure." Hercule Poirot said: "There is no one in the office." "Well, I don't know where she'd be, I'm sure." "Perhaps," Hercule Poirot said, patient and persistent, "you could find out ?" 3i The girl sighed. Dreary as her day's round was, it had now been made additionally so by this new burden laid upon her. She said sadly: "Well, I'll see what I can do." Poirot thanked her and removed himself once more to the hall, not daring to face the malevolent glare of the occupants of the lounge. He was stari...
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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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