"You are too kind," murmured Katherine.
"Ah, you mock yourself at me; but do you want to hear the developments of the case, or do you not?"
Katherine admitted that she did, and Poirot proceeded to sketch for her a thumbnail portrait of the Comte de la Roche.
"You think he killed her," said Katherine thoughtfully.
"That is the theory," said Poirot guardedly.
"Do you yourself believe that?"
"I did not say so. And you, Mademoiselle, what do think?"
Katherine shook her head.
"How should I know? I don’t know anything about those things, but I should say that"
"Yes," said Poirot encouragingly.
"Well—from what you say the Count does not sound the kind of man who would actually kill anybody."
"Ah! Very good," cried Poirot, "you agree with me, that is just what I have said." He looked at her sharply. "But tell me, you have met Mr. Derek Kettering?"
"I met him at Lady Tamplin's, and I lunched with him yesterday."
"A mauvais sujet," said Poirot, shaking his head; “but les femmes—they like that, eh?"
He twinkled at Katherine and she laughed.
"He is the kind of man one would notice anywhere," continued Poirot. "Doubtless you observed him on the Blue Train?"
"Yes, I noticed him."
"In the restaurant car?"
