en voyage
Poirot took a quick step forwards.
“You should not do that. Mademoiselle–“
The young woman started nervously at the sound of his voice. The revolver slipped through her fingers. She was standing by the edge of the pool and the revolver fell with a splash into the water.
Her mouth opened and she uttered an “Oh” of consternation, turning her head to look at Poirot apologetically.
“What a fool I am,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
The Hollow by Agatha Christie
Stepmothers! It was rotten to have a stepmother, everybody said so. And it was true! Not that Arlena was unkind to her. Most of the time she hardly noticed the girl. But when she did, there was a contemptuous amusement in her glance, in her words. The finished grace and poise of Arlena’s movements emphasized Linda’s own adolescent clumsiness. With Arlena about, one felt, shamingly, just how immature and crude one was.
Agatha Christie
I think the Adams girl did it,’ said Japp, rising. ‘A fine bit of work on your part, M. Poirot, to tumble to that. But there, of course, you go about to theatres and amusing yourself. Things strike you that don’t get the chance of striking me. Pity there’s no apparent motive, but a little spade work will soon bring it to light, I expect.’
‘There is one person with a motive to whom you have given no attention,’ remarked Poirot.
‘Who’s that, sir?’
Lord Edgware dies
Agatha Christie
“Imagine, Hastings,” he said, “that house there-the one on the point that we have admired so much, it belongs to Mademoiselle here.”
“Indeed?” I said, though I was unable to recall having expressed any admiration. In fact I had hardly noticed the house.
“It looks rather eerie and imposing standing there by itself far from anything.”
“It’s called End House,” said the girl. “I love it but it’s a tumble-down old place. Going to rack and ruin.”
Peril at End House
Agatha Christie
“I talked a bit about you, and this girl was standing around listening.
When you said an unattractive Ophelia it clicked somehow. I thought,
“now who does that remind me of?’ And then it came to me: “Of course.
The girl at the party that day.’ I rather think she belonged there (…)”
Third girl, Agatha Christie
“Miss de Bellefort.” “Linnet!” “Jackie!” Windlesham stood a little aside,
watching sympathetically as this fiery little creature flung herself
open-armed upon Linnet.
“Lord Windlesham–Miss de Bellefort–my best friend.”
Death on the Nile, Agatha Christie
With a quick gesture she fumbled in a little silk bag that lay on the seat.
Then she held out her hand. On the palm of it was a small pearl-handled pistol
a dainty toy it looked.
Agatha Christie
You like apples, don’t you?” said Joyce. ” I read you did, or perhaps I heard it on the telly.
You’re the one who writes murder stories, aren’t you?”
“Yes”, said Mrs Oliver.
“We ought to hove made you do something connected with murders. Have a murder at the party tonight and make people solve it.”
Hallowe’en Party, Agatha Christie
There they were well down to it, their faces serious, the bids coming quickly.
“One heart.”
“Pass.”
“Three clubs.”
“Three spades.”
“Four diamonds.”
“Double.”
“Four hearts.”
(…)
And the raised voice was his official voice, so different that all the heads at the
bridge table turned to him, and Anne Meredith’s hand remained poised over an
ace of spades in dummy.
“I’m sorry to tell you all,” he said, “that our host, Mr. Shaitana, is dead.”
Agatha Christie
“Eh bien, mon ami,” said Poirot, lighting one of his tiny cigarettes, ” we must map out a plan of campaign. Already I have made rough survey of the house, but I am of opinion that any clue will be found in this room. We shall have to g othrough the documents in the desk with meticulous care.(…)”
Agatha Christie
The door opened and Temple announced
Lady Mary Lytton Gore and Mr. and Mrs.
Babbington and Miss Lytton Gore.
Mr. Satterthwaite supplied Miss Wills with
her cocktail and then sidled into the neighborhood
of Lady Mary Lytton Gore. He had
a weakness for titles.
Also, apart from snobbishness, he liked a
gentlewoman, and that Lady Mary most undeniably
was.
Three Act Tragedy by Agatha Christie
clementineTe 
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