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Agatha Christie
“That’s so. Au revoir, then.”
“Wait a second, you haven’t told me your address.”
“Oh, I'm staying at the Hôtel du Phare. It’s a little place, but quite good. Come and look me up tomorrow.”
“I will,” I said, with perhaps rather unnecessary empressement.
I watched her out of sight, then turned and retraced my steps to the villa. I remembered that I had not relocked the door of the shed. Fortunately no one had noticed the oversight, and turning the key I removed it and returned it to the sergent de ville. And, as I did so, it came upon me suddenly that though Cinderella had given me her address I still did not know her name.
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