The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories (Hercule Poirot 21)

They took their seats round the table and Mr.

Pointz beamed affectionately at his guests. He felt

he was doing them well and he liked to do people

well. His eye rested on one after another. Lady

Marroway--fine woman--not quite the goods, of

course, he knew thatwhe was perfectly well aware

that what he had called all his life the crrne de ia

crrne would have very little to do with the Mar~

roways--but then the crrne de la crrne were

supremely unaware of his own existence. Anyway,

Lady Marroway was a damned smart-looking

woman--and he didn't mind if she did rook him a

bit at Bridge. Didn't enjoy it quite so much from

Sir George. Fishy eye the fellow had. Brazenly on

the make. But he wouldn't make too much out of

Isaac Pointz. He'd see to that all right.

Old Leathern wasn't a bad fellow--longwinded,

of course, like most Americans--fond of telling

8

Agatha Christie

endless long stories. And he had that disconcerting

habit of requiring precise information. What was

the population of Dartmouth? In what year had

the Naval College been built? And so on. Ex-pected

his host to be a kind of walking Baedeker.

Eve was a nice cheery kid--he enjoyed chaffing

her. Voice rather like a corncrake, but she had all

her wits about her. A bright kid.

Young Llewellyn--he seemed a bit quiet.

Looked as though he had something on his mind.