Or so my wife says.
Look at what he reads! Nothing but thrillers or Wild West stories."
Poirot said: "You mean that he has still the mentality of a boy?"
"Well, don't you think so, sir?"
"Me, I have not seen very much of him."
"I haven't really, either.
I've been out sailing with him once or twice, but he doesn't really like having any one with him. He prefers to be on his own."
Hercule Poirot said: "That is indeed curious.
It is singularly unlike his practice on land."
Redfern laughed. He said: "I know.
We all have a bit of trouble keeping out of his way.
He'd like to turn this place into a cross between Margate and Le Touquet."
Poirot said nothing for a minute or two. He was studying the laughing face of his companion very attentively.
He said suddenly and unexpectedly:
"I think, Mr Redfern, that you enjoy living."
Patrick stared at him, surprised.
"Indeed I do.
Why not?"
"Why not indeed," agreed Poirot.
"I make you my felicitation on the fact."
Smiling a little Patrick Redfern said: "Thank you, sir."
"That is why, as an older man, a very much older man, I venture to offer you a piece of advice."
"Yes, sir?"
"A very wise friend of mine in the Police Force said to me years ago:
'Hercule, my friend, if you would know tranquillity, avoid women.'"
Patrick Redfern said: "I'm afraid it's a bit late for that, sir. I'm married, you know."
"I do know.
You wife is a very charming, a very accomplished woman. She is, I think, very fond of you."
Patrick Redfern said sharply: "I'm very fond of her."
"Ah," said Hercule Poirot, "I am delighted to hear it."
Patrick's brow was suddenly like thunder.
"Look here, M. Poirot, what are you getting at?"
"Les femmes." Poirot leaned back and closed his eyes. "I know something of them.
They are capable of complicating life unbearably. And the English, they conduct their affairs indescribably.
If it was necessary for you to come here, M. Redfern, why, in the name of Heaven, did you bring your wife?"
Patrick Redfern said angrily: "I don't know what you mean."
Hercule Poirot said calmly: "You know perfectly.
I am not so foolish as to argue with an infatuated man.
I utter only the word of caution."
"You've been listening to these damned scandalmongers. Mrs Gardener, the Brewster woman - nothing to do but to clack their tongues all day.
Just because a woman's good-looking they're down on her like a sack of coals."
Hercule Poirot got up.
He murmured: "Are you really as young as all that?"
Shaking his head, he left the bar. Patrick Redfern stared angrily after him.
Hercule Poirot paused in the hall on his way from the dining-room.
The doors were open a breath of soft night air came in.
The rain had stopped and the mist had dispersed.
It was a fine night again.
Hercule Poirot found Mrs Redfern in her favourite seat on the cliff ledge.
He stopped by her and said: "This seat is damp.