The Mysterious Affair at Styles


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curiosity was aroused afresh.  
Lawrence would say no more, so I decided that I would descend from my  
high horse, and once more seek out Poirot at Leastways Cottage.  
This time I was received with a smile. Monsieur Poirot was within. Would I  
mount? I mounted accordingly.  
Poirot was sitting by the table, his head buried in his hands. He sprang up  
at my entrance.  
"What is it?" I asked solicitously. "You are not ill, I trust?"  
"No, no, not ill. But I decide an affair of great moment."  
"Whether to catch the criminal or not?" I asked facetiously.  
But, to my great surprise, Poirot nodded gravely.  
"'To speak or not to speak,' as your so great Shakespeare says, 'that is the  
question.'"  
I did not trouble to correct the quotation.  
"You are not serious, Poirot?"  
"
I am of the most serious. For the most serious of all things hangs in the  
balance."  
"And that is?"  
"
A woman's happiness, mon ami," he said gravely.  
I did not quite know what to say.  
The moment has come," said Poirot thoughtfully, "and I do not know what  
"
to do. For, see you, it is a big stake for which I play. No one but I, Hercule  
Poirot, would attempt it!" And he tapped himself proudly on the breast.  
After pausing a few minutes respectfully, so as not to spoil his effect, I gave  
him Lawrence's message.  
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