"At the Big Four, of course."
"Cela va sans dire.
But how would you set about it?"
"The police," I hazarded doubtfully.
Poirot smiled.
"They would accuse us of romancing.
We have nothing to go upon - nothing whatever.
We must wait."
"Wait for what?"
"Wait for them to make a move.
See now, in England you all comprehend and adore le boxe.
If one man does not make a move, the other must, and by permitting the adversary to make the attack one learns something about him.
That is our part - to let the other side make the attack." "You think they will?" I said doubtfully.
"I have no doubt whatever of it.
To begin with, see, they try to get me out of England.
That fails.
Then, in the Dartmoor affair, we step in and save their victim from the gallows.
And yesterday, once again, we interfere with their plans.
Assuredly, they will not leave the matter there."
As I reflected on this, there was a knock on the door.
Without waiting for a reply, a man stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
He was a tall, thin man, with a slightly hooked nose and a sallow complexion.
He wore an overcoat buttoned up to his chin, and a soft hat well pulled down over his eyes.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, for my somewhat unceremonious entry," he said in a soft voice, "but my business is of a rather unorthodox nature."
Smiling, he advanced to the table and sat down by it.
I was about to spring up, but Poirot restrained me with a gesture.
"As you say, monsieur, your entry is somewhat unceremonious.
Will you kindly state your business?"
"My dear M. Poirot, it is very simple.
You have been annoying my friends."
"In what way?"
"Come, come. Monsieur Poirot.
You do not seriously ask me that?
You know as well as I do."
"It depends, monsieur, upon who these friends of yours are."
Without a word, the man drew from his pocket a cigarette case, and, opening it, took out four cigarettes and tossed them on the table.
Then he picked them up and returned them to his case, which he replaced in his pocket.
"Aha!" said Poirot, "so it is like that, is it?
And what do your friends suggest?"
"They suggest, monsieur, that you should employ your talents - your very considerable talents - in the detection of legitimate crime - return to your former avocations, and solve the problems of London society ladies."
"A peaceful programme," said Poirot. "And supposing I do not agree?"
The man made an eloquent gesture.
"We should regret it, of course, exceedingly," he said. "So would all the friends and admirers of the great M. Hercule Poirot.
But regrets, however poignant, do not bring a man to life again."
"Put very delicately," said Poirot, nodding his head. "And supposing I - accept?"
"In that case I am empowered to offer you - compensation."
He drew out a pocket-book, and threw ten notes on the table.
They were for ten thousand francs each.
"That is merely as a guarantee of our good faith," he said. "Ten times that amount will be paid you."
"Good God," I cried, springing up, "you dare to think -!"