The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories (Hercule Poirot 21)

merriment, my dear Poirot? We have no bodies

here, positively not a single body to offer you."

108

Agatha Christie

Poirot sipped the champagne.

"You seem very gay, man cher?"

"Gay? I am steeped in miserymwallowing in

gloom. Tell me, you hear this tune they are playing.

You recognize it?"

Poirot lazarded cautiously:

"Something perhaps to do with your baby having

left you?"

"Not a bad guess," said the young man, "but

wrong for once. 'There's nothing like love for

making you miserable!' That's what it's called."

"Aha?"

"My favorite tune,." said Tony Chapell mournfully.

"And my favorite restaurant and my favorite

band--and my favorite girl's here and she's

dancing it with somebody else."

"Hence the melancholy?" said Poirot.

"Exactly. Pauline and I, you see, have had what

the vulgar call words. That is to say, she's had

ninety-five words to five of mine out of every hundred.

My five are: 'But darling--I can explain.' --Then she starts in on her ninety-five again and

we get no further. I think," added Tony sadly,

"that I shall poison myself."

"Pauline?" murmured Poirot.

"Pauline Weatherby. Barton Russell's young

sister-in-law. Young, lovely, disgustingly rich. Tonight