could remember what a thunderbolt it had been on his side. The first time he had seen her—at the theater, I think: “Who’s that? Over there—with the heaps of hair?”—“Oh, Leila Gracy? Why, she’s not really pretty....” “Well, I’m going to marry her—” “Marry her? But her father’s that old scoundrel Bill Gracy ... the one....” “I’m going to marry her....” “The one who’s had to resign from all his clubs....” “I’m going to marry her....” And he did; and it was she, if you please, who kept him dangling, and who would and who wouldn’t, until some whipper-snapper of a youth, who was meanwhile making up his mind about her, had finally decided in the negative.
Town of Washington, April 27, 1802—
principal organs to be considered. I've wondered if he isn't held up, in a way, by his will-power. He keeps himself so aloof—if you know what I mean? Never lets himself get excited about any mortal thing; hardly seems interested, really...."
“Frances was pleading for London—a very unusual fancy for her,” said Lady Markham. “The very young are not afraid of responsibility; but I am, at my age. I could not venture to recommend Captain Gaunt to stay.”
Poirot was busy mopping a grey suit with a minute sponge. Never was there a dandy such as Hercule Poirot. Neatness and order were his passion. Now, with the odour of benzine filling the air, he was quite unable to give me his full attention.
“How did you know this address?” I asked as I followed Poirot out into the hall. “Oh, of course, you had the first Mrs. Robinson followed when she left the other flat.”
“God forbid, Miss” ses I, and wint to wark.
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