The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories (Hercule Poirot 21)

"They won't get the Morning Star," said Mr.

Pointz. "To begin with it's in a special inner

pocket. And anyway--old Pointz knows what he's

about. Nobody's going to steal the Morning Star."

Eve laughed.

"Ugh-huh--bet I could steal it!"

"I bet you couldn't," Mr. Pointz twinkled back

at her.

"Well, I bet I could. I was thinking about it last

night in bed--after you'd handed it round the

table for us all to look at. I thought of a real cute

way to steal it."

"And what's that?"

Eve put her head on one side, her fair hair

wagged excitedly. "I'm not telling you--now.

What do you bet I couldn't?"

emories of Mr. Pointz' youth rose in his

mind.

"Half a dozen pairs of gloves," he said.

"Gloves," cried Eve disgustedly. "Who wears

gloves?"

"Well--do you wear silk stockings?"

"Do I not? My best pair laddered this morning.''

"Very well, then. Half a dozen pairs of the

finest silk stockings--"

Agatha Christie

"Oo-er," said Eve blissfully. "And what about

you?"