She flung up her head. "Is there any need for me to stay here and be insulted?"

"None whatever," said Poirot and held the door open politely for her.

"That fingerprint clinched things, Poirot," I said thoughtfully. "He went all to pieces when you mentioned that."

"Yes, they are useful—fingerprints."

He added thoughtfully: "I put that in to please you, mon ami."

"But, Poirot," I cried, "wasn't it true?"

"Not in the least, mon ami," said Hercule Poirot.

I must mention a visit we had from Mr. Alexander Bonaparte Cust a few days later. After wringing Poirot's hand and endeavouring very incoherently and unsuccessfully to thank him, Mr. Cust drew himself up and said: "Do you know, a newspaper has actually offered me a hundred pounds—a hundred pounds—for a brief account of my life and history."

"I—I really don't know what to do about it."

"I should not accept a hundred," said Poirot. "Be firm. Say five hundred is your price. And do not confine yourself to one newspaper."