Death in the Clouds (Hercule Poirot 12)

‘They are counting on it.’

‘It would be wonderful,’ said Jane, ‘to get right away—’

A little colour rose in her face.

‘M. Poirot—’ She looked at him suspiciously. ‘You’re not—you’re not—being kind?’

‘Kind?’ said Poirot with a lively horror at the idea. ‘I can assure you, Mademoiselle—that where money is concerned I am strictly a man of business—’

He seemed so offended that Jane quickly begged his pardon.

‘I think,’ she said, ‘that I’d better go to some museums and look at some prehistoric pottery.’

‘A very good idea.’

At the doorway Jane paused and then came back.

‘You mayn’t have been kind in that particular way, but you have been kind—to me.’

She dropped a kiss on the top of his head and went out again.

‘Ça, c’est très gentil! ’ said Hercule Poirot.