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Some confounded Frenchman one of those 'Bel Ami' chaps, perhaps, who had nothing to do but hang about women for he had read that book with difficulty and a sort of disgusted fascination. He followed doggedly along a shady alley, losing sight of her now and then when the path curved.
Poirot, I noticed, was looking profoundly discouraged. He had that little frown between the eyes that I knew so well. "What is it, Poirot?" I inquired. "Ah, mon ami, things are going badly, badly." In spite of myself, my heart gave a leap of relief. Evidently there was a likelihood of John Cavendish being acquitted. When we reached the house, my little friend waved aside Mary's offer of tea.
"In a moment, with a shriek like that of escaping steam, a windy demon leapt at us from the underneath. It was all of winter in a breath. It seemed to shrivel the skin from our faces the flesh from our bones. We staggered backwards. "'Mon ami! mon ami! cried Fidèle, 'my heart is a stone; my eyes are two blisters of water! "We danced as the blood returned unwilling to our veins.
"Oui, if you can!" she answered, with a mocking laugh. "Clopin, cher ami, your poor little parakeets are safe for the night, unless monsieur grows desperate and eats them for himself." "Even that, if it were necessary to get the pearl, madame," said Cleek, with the utmost sang-froid.
"But from the sewer?" she repeated. "It is incomprehensible, cher ami. You were to pilot von Hetzler over from the Café Dupin to the square beyond there" pointing to the window "to leave him waiting a moment while you came on to see if it were safe for him to enter; and now you come from the sewer from the opposite direction entirely!" "Mother of misfortunes!
In this strait the idea suddenly crossed his mind that his greatest security would be in feigning dumbness. "Écoutez, mon ami" commenced Griffin, in very respectable English-French, "you are to tell me nothing but the truth, and it may be all the better for you. You belong to the Feu-Follet, of course?"
This is the only bon Dieu. Though there are many people who live as if this were their sentiment, there are few who give it such brutal expression; but some of the people at the corner of the street laughed too. 'Bravo, Jacques! they cried; and one said, 'You are right, mon ami, the only god to trust in nowadays. 'It is a short credo, M. le Maire, said another, who caught my eye.
"It is a nice distinction would you like me better if I were a lover?" "We have before spoken of this, Mon ami If you were a lover that is, if you loved you would be dangerous even with your one leg and your one eye a woman could be foolish for you. There is that air of Grand seigneur that air of mocking of Mon Dieu! Something which I can't find my word for Thou art rudement chic cheri!"
"I will pretend that you are a charming dryad, and I what shall I be?" "My friend," she said calmly, and drew her hand away from him. "Votre ami? Avec tout mon coeur. I will be your best friend." He held out his hand. "Then you will do what I ask? You are also a good friend of Mrs. Wentworth?" A little cloud flitted over his face but she did not see it.
He looked at her a moment as if he hadn't believed his own ears, while his companion burst into wild laughter. "Touch, mon ami," he cried, clapping the chauffeur on the back. "My faith, but she has a pretty wit the donkey and Monsieur Philidor par exemple!" And he roared with laughter again.
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