[Mummy] Yellow sand fills the sky

At this moment, a woman's excited voice interjected, "Mr. Poirot, you are still here. I met you on the platform. I just always felt that I had seen your face somewhere before. Then I thought Now, isn’t this the Mr. Poirot that I often see in newspapers, I have one thing to ask for your help, and you must promise me.” A lady in a light blue dress and a simple pearl necklace Walking in quickly, the most striking thing is her bright and wise eyes, and the striking gold bracelet in the shape of a scorpion on her hand.

As she spoke, she took the first seat opposite Poirot. Facing a lady, he could only endure the unhappiness in his heart for the time being, and said politely, "Miss, this lady, I think I am more eager to talk to Poirot." Mr Lowe had a conversation, so..."

She didn't care at all, let alone getting up, and asked back: "Do you mean that you want me to give you this position, is it correct to treat a lady like this, and I am not a lady, but a madam, Montsolefort Ma'am, I wish you could call me that."

After finishing speaking, she covered her mouth with a delicate fan in embarrassment, and asked, "Mr. Poirot, I am not bothering you. I really can't wait to come to you."

He could only hold back the anger that was about to burst out for a while and said to Poirot: "I am honored to be talking to Mr. Hercar Poirot. Is that so? My name is Ratchett. In our country, people are used to being straight to the point .M. Poirot, I want you to take a position for me."

He spoke eagerly, but it was his cold, sharp eyes that Poirot could not help noticing.Poirot raised his eyebrows slightly. "My clientele is limited now, sir. I can only take on a few cases."

"Well, of course, I know that. But this one, M. Poirot, means a lot of money." He repeated in his soft persuasive voice, "a lot of money."

Poirot was silent for a minute or two, and then said: "What do you want me to do for you, Mr. Ratchett?" Sitting beside Poirot, she could clearly see the reluctance under his slight frown. .

"M. Poirot, I am a rich man—a very rich man. A man in this position always has an enemy. I have an enemy."

"Only one enemy?"

"What do you mean by that question?" asked Mr. Ratchett sharply.He was obviously a little angry. As long as a person with a strong desire for control and self-willedness stepped on his warning line, he would immediately counterattack. Now, obviously, Poirot's rhetorical question just touched His sensitive nerve.

"Sir, from my experience, when a person is in a situation with enemies as you say, it usually doesn't have just one enemy." Poirot's answer seemed to reassure Ratchett.

He hastened to say, "Uh—yes, I appreciate your point of view. One enemy, or several enemies, but it doesn't matter. What matters is my safety."

"Safety?"

"My life has been threatened, Monsieur Poirot. I'm quite a self-protecting man, you know." He reached into his coat pocket, took a small automatic pistol, and demonstrated it.He went on grimly: "I don't think I'm the type to be negligent. But when I see this, I want to double-check people's safety. You can get me, I think." The right man for the money, M. Poirot. Remember—a lot of money."

Poirot regarded him thoughtfully for some minutes.His face was expressionless.He couldn't figure out what was going on in his mind.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said at last. "I can't agree to your request." The man looked at him shrewdly.

"Let's talk about a price," he said. **Shakes his head.

"You don't understand, sir. I've been very lucky in my profession. I've earned enough money to satisfy my needs and caprices. I'm only taking cases that interest me now."

"You do hold your breath," Ratchett said. "Does twenty thousand dollars interest you?"

"No."

"If you insist on wanting more, you won't get it. I know what's worth it to me."

"Me too—Mr. Ratchett."

"Is there anything wrong with my suggestion?" The atmosphere suddenly became tense, and his hand was lightly placed on the bolt of the pistol, which was an expression of extreme self-defense.

Suddenly, she smiled. "Mr. Ratchett, if you are in your current state, no matter who protects you, you still can't sleep peacefully. What you need to do is not to find someone to protect your safety but to pay for your sins. Otherwise, You'll never sleep well."

Ratchett stood up abruptly, his angry eyes fixed on her, like a lone wolf in the wilderness that had been hungry for seven days.He said word by word: "I'm talking to Mr. Poirot. I don't think I need a lady's so-called suggestion. Mr. Poirot, why don't you accept my suggestion?"

Poirot stood up. "If you'll excuse my abruptness—I say I don't like the way you look, Mr. Ratchett."

As he spoke, he stretched out his hand to her: "Mrs. Montsolefort, it seems that I am completely free now. If you don't mind, let's talk while walking." She was very happy to hold him hand, they left the dining car together.

"Madame de Montsolefort, come, and I will take you back to your box. I happen to know, Madame, that you share a room with a German maid, and that this does not cause you any inconvenience. I I think, as a friend of the director here, I should also take care of him." Poirot stroked the two mustaches on his lips.

"Oh, thank you, you are so sweet, M. Poirot. If only my husband cared about me as much as you do." She paused, "I think you should know that my husband and I are in the In an unusual state, we had some differences because of some things, I think..."

"Madame." Poirot lifted his hat and said with a smile: "Of course, I am very happy to listen to you. Don't worry, Hercar Polo's mouth is as reliable as his credibility. Not a word will come out of my mouth."

She covered her mouth and smiled, her eyes narrowed like a crescent moon. "Mr. Poirot, of course I have complete trust in you. However, what I trust more is the active small gray cells in your brain. I think they will definitely help me a lot."

Poirot brought her into a small reception room, first let her sit down, and then sat comfortably on the chair, "Madame, before we start our conversation, I must Sincerely thank you for this matter, the menu you wrote in the letter you sent me before really impressed me, to be honest, they really helped me a lot, very big.”

This obviously pleased her, and she smiled even brighter, "Mr. Poirot, you really praised me too much. This is just a small gesture of mine. After all, British food is really... oh, sorry , I want to use some not-so-kind words, so I think attaching some menus to you should make your gray cells more active. One more thing, although I know many people have asked you this, I I'm still curious, how did you make sure, after all, we've never met, and I didn't reveal my name in the letter I sent you."

Poirot gently put his hat on the table beside him, "It's just a little skill. I know that if I say this is my special feature, it is absolutely impossible to please Madam you. In fact, Madam you He told me..." Poirot was about to go on.

But she immediately understood, "Oh, it was indeed I who told you. The question you asked earlier was just a guess in your mind, but I immediately confirmed your guess. In that conjecture, my level of English and my accent have been exposed. The British accent is a troublesome thing. What do you think, M. Poirot."

"Yes. They divide people neatly and firmly, French, American, Egyptian, Indian..." Poirot relaxed his little shoulders a little, "Sometimes it does give me A little trouble."

"However, Mr. Poirot, your English is much better than mine. I can't always use vocabulary correctly or use correct grammar." She paused, "Don't say I can't see it, they always think They hide it very well, but in my eyes, those meanings are very clear. They always think that they are still superior. It's really sad, they are destined to be left behind. However, the real The nobles still maintain their pride, but this era is no longer the era of the nobles."

Poirot looked at her kindly, "Madame, please speak freely. I completely agree with your views. Many young people today have abandoned their previous virtues. This is an undoubted regression. But , What happened between you and your husband?"

There was a shy expression on her face, and she kept twisting the handkerchief in her hand, "Actually, it was just a mistake about me writing to ask you, it was a mistake between me and him, but it's just right It was this mistake that made me understand what the problem between us is." She took a deep breath and said, "At that time, I wrote to you to ask you how to tell from the clues that he was in trouble during the day. What are you doing, I hope to find some grounded things."

Poirot fully understood, "This is really very good news. In my opinion, there is no doubt that your husband loves you very much, Madame."

"Thank you very much, M. Poirot," she said sincerely. "If I hadn't thought of you and written to you, I wouldn't have waited any longer, and I would have made a big mistake out of recklessness, forever. Losing him instead of learning the truth - he just wanted to give me an incredible birthday present."