a view of the village street. The fresh air blew in warm and pleasant. It was going to be a hot day.
Suddenly my attention was arrested by a weedy looking young man rushing down the street at a great pace. It was the expression on his face that was extraordinary—a curious mingling of terror and agitation.
“Look, Poirot!” I said.
He leant forward.
“Tiens!” he said. “It is Mr. Mace, from the chemist’s shop. He is coming here.”
a view of the village street. The fresh air blew in warm and pleasant. It was going to be a hot day.
Suddenly my attention was arrested by a weedy looking young man rushing down the street at a great pace. It was the expression on his face that was extraordinary—a curious mingling of terror and agitation.
“Look, Poirot!” I said.
He leant forward.
“Tiens!” he said. “It is Mr. Mace, from the chemist’s shop. He is coming here.”
