1. A Fellow Traveller

           Ibelievethatawell-knownanecdoteexiststotheeffectthatayoungwriter,determinedtomakethecommencementofhisstoryforcibleandoriginalenoughtocatchandrivettheattentionofthemostblaséofeditors,pennedthefollowingsentence:

           “‘Hell!’saidtheDuchess.”

           Strangelyenough,thistaleofmineopensinmuchthesamefashion.OnlytheladywhogaveutterancetotheexclamationwasnotaDuchess!

           ItwasadayinearlyJune.IhadbeentransactingsomebusinessinParisandwasreturningbythemorningservicetoLondonwhereIwasstillsharingroomswithmyoldfriend,theBelgianex-detective,HerculePoirot.

           TheCalaisexpresswassingularlyempty—infact,myowncompartmentheldonlyoneothertraveller.IhadmadeasomewhathurrieddeparturefromthehotelandwasbusyassuringmyselfthatIhaddulycollectedallmytrapswhenthetrainstarted.UptillthenIhadhardlynoticedmycompanion,butIwasnowviolentlyrecalledtothefactofherexistence.Jumpingupfromherseat,sheletdownthewindowandstuckherheadout,withdrawingitamomentlaterwiththebriefandforcibleejaculation“Hell!”

           NowIamold-fashioned.Awoman,Iconsider,shouldbewomanly.Ihavenopatiencewiththemodernneuroticgirlwhojazzesfrommorningtonight,smokeslikeachimney,anduseslanguagewhichwouldmakeaBillingsgatefishwomanblush!

           Ilookedupnow,frowningslightly,intoapretty,impudentface,surmountedbyarakishlittleredhat.Athickclusterofblackcurlshideachear.