Labours Of Hercules By Agatha Christie

You will tame her not a doubt of it in truth she eats

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Unformatted text preview: o me as though you'd ever been on a horse in your life!" "The horses, Madame, are symbolic. 306 They were the wild horses who ate human flesh." "How very unpleasant of them. I always do think these ancient Greeks and Romans are very unpleasant. I can't think why clergymen are so fond of quoting from the classics -- for one thing one never understands what they mean and it always seems to me that the whole subject matter of the classics is very unsuitable for clergymen. So much incest, and all those statues with nothing on -- not that I mind that myself but you know what clergymen are -- quite upset if girls come to church with no stockings on -- let me see, where was I ?" cc! am not quite sure.53 "I suppose, you wretch, you just won't tell me if Mrs. Larkin murdered her husband ? Or perhaps Anthony Hawker is the Brighton trunk murderer ?" She looked at him hopefully, but Hercule Poirot's face remained impassive. "It might be forgery," speculated Lady Carmichael. cc! did see Mrs. Larkin in the bank the other morning and she'd just cashed a fifty pound cheque to self--it seemed to me at the time a lot of money to want in cash. Oh no, that's the wrong way 307 round -- if she was a forger she would be paying it in, wouldn't she ? Hercule Poirot, if you sit there looking like an owl and saying nothing, I shall throw something at you." "You must have a little patience," said Hercule Poirot. IV Ashley Lodge, the residence of General Grant, was not a large house. It was situated on the side of a hill, had good stables, and a straggling, rather neglected, garden. Inside, it was what a house agent would have described as "fully furnished". Crosslegged Buddhas leered down from convenient niches, brass Benares trays and tables encumbered the floor space. Processional elephants garnished the mantelpieces and more tortured brasswork adorned the walls. In the midst of this Anglo-Indian home from home. General Grant was ensconced in a large, shabby armchair with his leg, swathed in bandages, reposing on another chair. "Gout," he explained. "Ever had the gout, Mr. -- er -- Poirot ? Makes a feller 308 damned bad tempered! All my father's fault. Drank port all his life -- so did my grandfather. It's played the deuce with me. Have a drink? Ring that bell, will you, for that feller of mine ?" A turbaned servant appeared. General Grant addressed him as Abdul and ordered him to bring whisky and soda. When it came he poured out such a generous portion that Poirot was moved to protest. "Can't join you, I'm afraid, Mr. Poirot." The General eyed the tantalus sadly. "My doctor wallah says it's poison to me to touch the stuff. Don't suppose he knows for a minute. Ignorant chaps doctors. Spoil-sports. Enjoy knocking a man off his food and drink and putting him on some pap like steamed fish. Steamed fish -- pah I" In his indignation the General incautiously moved his bad foot and uttered a yelp of agony at the twinge that ensued. He apologised for his language. "Like a bear with a sore head, that's wh...
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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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