2. An Appeal for Help

           ItwasfiveminutespastninewhenIenteredourjointsitting-roomforbreakfastonthefollowingmorning.

           MyfriendPoirot,exacttotheminuteasusual,wasjusttappingtheshellofhissecondegg.

           HebeameduponmeasIentered.

           “Youhavesleptwell,yes?Youhaverecoveredfromthecrossingsoterrible?Itisamarvel,almostyouareexactthismorning.Pardon,butyourtieisnotsymmetrical.PermitthatIrearrangehim.”

           Elsewhere,IhavedescribedHerculePoirot.Anextraordinarylittleman!Height,fivefeetfourinches,egg-shapedheadcarriedalittletooneside,eyesthatshonegreenwhenhewasexcited,stiffmilitarymoustache,airofdignityimmense!Hewasneatanddandifiedinappearance.Forneatnessofanykind,hehadanabsolutepassion.Toseeanornamentsetcrooked,oraspeckofdust,oraslightdisarrayinone’sattire,wastorturetothelittlemanuntilhecouldeasehisfeelingsbyremedyingthematter.“Order”and“Method”werehisgods.Hehadacertaindisdainfortangibleevidence,suchasfootprintsandcigaretteash,andwouldmaintainthat,takenbythemselves,theywouldneverenableadetectivetosolveaproblem.Thenhewouldtaphisegg-shapedheadwithabsurdcomplacency,andremarkwithgreatsatisfaction:“Thetruework,itisdonefromwithin.Thelittlegreycells—rememberalwaysthelittlegreycells,monami!”

           Islippedintomyseat,andremarkedidly,inanswertoPoirot’sgreeting,thatanhour’sseapassagefromCalaistoDovercouldhardlybedignifiedbytheepithet“terrible.