"And you know nothing about her since?"
"Nothing. Never even run across her accidentally like. I bet she is tooling it round some of these foreign resorts. Being a Marquise to the life. You couldn't put one over on Kitty. She would give as good as she got any day."
"I see," said Poirot thoughtfully.
"I am sorry I can't tell you more, Monsieur Poirot," said the other. "I would like to be of use to you if I could. You did me a good turn once."
"Ah, but we are quits on that; you, too, did me a good turn."
"One good turn deserves another. Ha, ha!" said Mr. Aarons.
"Your profession must be a very interesting one," said Poirot.
"So-so," said Mr. Aarons non-committally. "Taking the rough with the smooth, it is all right. I don't do so badly at it, all things considered, but you have to keep your eyes skinned. Never know what the public will jump for next."
"Dancing has come very much to the fore in the last few years," murmured Poirot reflectively.
"I never saw anything in this Russian ballet, but people like it. Too highbrow for me."
"I met one dancer out on the Riviera—Mademoiselle Mirelle."
"Mirelle? She is hot stuff, by all accounts. There is always money going to back her—though, so far as that goes, the girl can dance; I have seen her, and I know what I am talking about. I never had much to do
