‘Oh, no, Tim! I don’t agree with you.’
‘Anyway, what do we want to get mixed up with an outsider for? Cooped up like this on a small boat, that sort of thing is always a bore. He’ll be with us morning, noon and night.’
‘I’m sorry, dear.’ Mrs Allerton looked distressed. ‘I thought really it would amuse you. After all, he must have had a varied experience. And you love detective stories.’
Tim grunted:
‘I wish you wouldn’t have these bright ideas, Mother. We can’t get out of it now, I suppose?’
‘Really, Tim, I don’t see how we can.’
‘Oh, well, we shall have to put up with it, I suppose.’
The steward came to them at this minute and led them to a table. Mrs Allerton’s face wore rather a puzzled expression as she followed him. Tim was usually so easy-going and good-tempered. This outburst was quite unlike him. It wasn’t as though he had the ordinary Britisher’s dislike – and mistrust – of foreigners. Tim was very cosmopolitan. Oh, well – she sighed. Men were incomprehensible! Even one’s nearest and dearest had unsuspected reactions and feelings.
As they took their places, Hercule Poirot came quickly and silently into the dining-saloon. He paused with his hand on the back of the third chair.
‘You really permit, Madame, that I avail myself of your kind suggestion?’
‘Of course. Sit down, Monsieur Poirot.’
‘You are most amiable.’
She was uneasily conscious that as he seated himself he shot a swift glance at Tim, and that Tim had not quite succeeded in masking a somewhat sullen expression.
Mrs Allerton set herself to produce a pleasant atmosphere. As they drank their soup, she picked up the passenger list which had been placed beside her plate.
‘Let’s try and identify everybody,’ she suggested cheerfully. ‘I always think that’s rather fun.’ She began reading. ‘Mrs Allerton, Mr T. Allerton. That’s easy enough! Miss de Bellefort. They’ve put her at the same table as the Otterbournes, I see. I wonder what she and Rosalie will make of each other. Who comes next? Dr Bessner. Dr Bessner? Who can identify Dr Bessner?’ She bent her glance on a table at which four men sat together. ‘I think he must be the fat one with the closely shaved head and the moustache. A German, I should imagine. He seems to be enjoying his soup very much.’ Certain succulent noises floated across to them.