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Number Four Wins a Trick
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motor trips, and posed as quite an authority on the neighbourhood.
He took a pipe from his pocket and began to light it. Poirot drew out his case of tiny cigarettes. As he placed one between his lips, the stranger leant forward with a match.
“Let me give you a light.”
As he spoke, without the least warning, all the lights went out. There was a chink of glass, and something pungent under my nose, suffocating me
