Stephen Carter shrugged his shoulders.

‘Excuse me, must just speak to a fellow I know over there. Fellow I was with at Eton.’

Stephen Carter got up and walked to a table a few places away.

Tony said gloomily:

‘Somebody ought to drown old Etonians at birth.’

Hercule Poirot was still being gallant to the dark beauty beside him.

He murmured:

‘I wonder, may I ask, what are the favourite flowers of Mademoiselle?’

‘Ah, now, why ees eet you want to know?’

Lola was arch.

‘Mademoiselle, if I send flowers to a lady, I am particular that they should be flowers she likes.’

‘That ees very charming of you, M. Poirot. I weel tell you–I adore the big dark red carnations–or the dark red roses.’

‘Superb–yes, superb! You do not, then, like yellow irises?’

‘Yellow flowers–no–they do not accord with my temperament.’

‘How wise…Tell me, Mademoiselle, did you ring up a friend tonight, since you arrived here?’

‘I? Ring up a friend? No, what a curious question!’

‘Ah, but I, I am a very curious man.’

‘I’m sure you are.’ She rolled her dark eyes at him. ‘A vairy dangerous man.’

‘No, no, not dangerous; say, a man who may be useful–in danger! You understand?’

Lola giggled. She showed white even teeth.

‘No, no,’ she laughed. ‘You are dangerous.’

Hercule Poirot sighed.

‘I see that you do not understand. All this is very strange.’

Tony came out of a fit of abstraction and said suddenly:

‘Lola, what about a spot of swoop and dip? Come along.’

‘I weel come–yes. Since M. Poirot ees not brave enough!’

Tony put an arm round her and remarked over his shoulder to Poirot as they glided off:

‘You can meditate on crime yet to come, old boy!’

Poirot said: ‘It is profound what you say there. Yes, it is profound…’

He sat meditatively for a minute or two, then he raised a finger. Luigi came promptly, his wide Italian face wreathed in smiles.

‘Mon vieux,’ said Poirot. ‘I need some information.’

‘Always at your service, Monsieur.’

‘I desire to know how many of these people at this table here have used the telephone tonight?’

‘I can tell you, Monsieur. The young lady, the one in white, she telephoned at once when she got here. Then she went to leave her cloak and while she was doing that the other lady came out of the cloakroom and went into the telephone box.’

‘So the Señora did telephone! Was that before she came into the restaurant?’

‘Yes, Monsieur.’

‘Anyone else?’

‘No, Monsieur.’

‘All this, Luigi, gives me furiously to think!’

‘Indeed, Monsieur.’

‘Yes. I think, Luigi, that tonight of all nights, I must have my wits about me! Something is going to happen, Luigi, and I am not at all sure what it is.’

‘Anything I can do. Monsieur–’

Poirot made a sign. Luigi slipped discreetly away. Stephen Carter was returning to the table.