"I don't agree with you," said Gale. "I'm a dentist by chance, not choice. My uncle was a dentist; he wanted me to come in with him, but I was all for adventure and seeing the world. I chucked dentistry and went off to farm in South Africa. However, that wasn't much good; I hadn't had enough experience. I had to accept the old man's offer and come and set up business with him."

"And now you are thinking of chucking dentistry again and going off to Canada. You have a Dominion complex!"

"This time I shall be forced to do it."

"Ah, but it is incredible how often things force one to do the thing one would like to do."

"Nothing's forcing me to travel," said Jane wistfully. "I wish it would."

"Eh bien, I make you an offer here and now. I go to Paris next week. If you like, you can take the job of my secretary. I will give you a good salary."

Jane shook her head.

"I mustn't give up Antoine's. It's a good job."

"So is mine a good job."

"Yes, but it's only temporary."

"I will obtain you another post of the same kind."

"Thanks, but I don't think I'll risk it."

Poirot looked at her and smiled enigmatically.

Three days later he was rung up.

"M. Poirot," said Jane, "is that job still open?"

"But, yes. I go to Paris on Monday."

"You really mean it? I can come?"

"Yes, but what has happened to make you change your mind?"

"I've had a row with Antoine. As a matter of fact, I lost my temper with a customer. She was an - an absolute - Well, I can't say just what she was through the telephone. I was feeling nervy, and instead of doing my soothing-sirup stuff, I just let rip and told her exactly what I thought of her."

"Ah, the thought of the great wide-open spaces."

"What's that you say?"

"I say that your mind was dwelling on a certain subject."

"It wasn't my mind, it was my tongue that slipped. I enjoyed it. Her eyes looked just like her beastly Pekingese's - as though they were going to drop out - but here I am, thrown out on my ear, as you might say. I must get another job sometime, I suppose, but I'd like to come to Paris first."

"Good; it is arranged. On the way over, I will give you your instructions."

Poirot and his new secretary did not travel by air, for which Jane was secretly thankful. The unpleasant experience of her last trip had shaken her nerve. She did not want to be reminded of that lolling figure in rusty black.

On their way from Calais to Paris they had the compartment to themselves and Poirot gave Jane some idea of his plans.