The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories (Hercule Poirot 21)

Mr. Leathern was a tall, fair, dyspeptic-looking

man with a somewhat mournful expression.

Mr. Pointz and Mr. Stein were turning away

from the darts. Mr. Pointz was chuckling and Mr.

Stein was looking somewhat rueful.

"It's all a matter of luck," he was saying.

Mr. Pointz slapped his pocket cheerfully. "Took a river off you all right. Skill, my boy,

skill. My old Dad was a first class dart player.

Well, folks, let's be getting along. Had your fortune

told, Eve? Did they tell you to beware of a

dark man?"

"A dark woman," corrected Eve. "She's got a

THE REGATTA MYSTERY

cast in her eye and she'll be real mean to me if I

give her a chance. And I'm to be married by the

time I'm seventeen..."

She ran on happily as the party steered its way

to the Royal George.

Dinner had been ordered beforehand by the

forethought of Mr. Pointz and a bowing waiter

led them upstairs and into a private room on the

first floor. Here a round table was ready laid. The

big bulging bow-window opened on the harbor

square and was open. The noise of the fair came

up to them, and the raucous squeal of three

roundabouts each blaring a different tune.

"Best shut that if we're to hear ourselves

speak," observed Mr. Pointz drily, and suited the

action to the word.