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"Poirot's eyes opened. "That is great ferocity," he said. "It is a woman," said the chef de train, speaking for the first time. "Depend upon it, it … - Agatha Christie
"Poirot's eyes opened. "That is great ferocity," he said.
"It is a woman," said the chef de train, speaking for the first time. "Depend upon it, it was a woman. Only a woman would stab like that."
Dr. Constantine screwed up his face thoughtfully. "She must have been a very strong woman," he said. "It is not my desire to speak technically-that is only confusing; but I can assure you that two of the blows were delivered with such forces as to drive them through hard belts of bone and muscle."
"It was clearly not a scientific crime," said Poirot.
"It was most unscientific," returned Dr. Constantine.
"The blows seem to have been delivered haphazard and at random. Some have glanced off, doing hardly any damage. It is as though somebody had shut his eyes and then in a frenzy struck blindly again and again."
"C'est une femme," said the chef de train again. "Women are like that. When they are enraged they have great strength." He nodded so sagely that everyone suspected a personal experience of his own."
English
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About Agatha Christie
Dame Agatha Mary Clarissa Christie (15 September 1890 – 12 January 1976) was an English author of detective fiction.
Biography information from Wikiquote
Also Known As
Pen Names:
Mary Westmacott
Birth Name:
Agatha Mary Clarissa Miller
Native Name:
Dame Agatha Mary Clarissa Christie, Lady Mallowan, DBE
Also Known As:
Duchess of Death
•
Mistress of Mystery
•
Queen of Crime
Alternative Names:
Agatha Mary Clarissa Christie
•
Dame Agatha Mary Clarissa Christie
•
Agatha Christie Mallowan
•
Lady Mallowan
•
Agatha Mary Clarissa Mallowan
•
Dame Agatha (Mary Clarissa) Christie
•
Agatha Christie Mallowa
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Additional quotes by Agatha Christie
I suppose next time I come home I shall find you wearing false moustaches — or are you doing so now?'
Poirot winced. His moustaches had always been his sensitive point. He was inordinately proud of them. My words touched him on the raw.
'No, no, indeed, mon ami. That day, I pray the good God, is still far off. The false moustaches! Quelle Horreur!’
He tugged at them vigorously to assure me of their genuine character.
'Well, they are very luxuriant still,' I said.
'N’est-ce pas? Never, in the whole of London, have I seen a pair of moustaches to equal mine.'
A good job too, I thought privately.
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