AA cold wind blew down the platform. Both men shivered,
Lieutenant Dubosc discreetly looked at his watch. Five minutes to five - only five minutes more!
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Thinking that the other man had noticed it, he hastened once more into speech.
"There are few people travelling this time of year," he said, glancing up at the windows of the sleeping-car above them.
"That is so," agreed M. Poirot.
"Let us hope you will not be snowed up in the Taurus!"
"That happens?"
"Yes, it has happened. Not this year, as yet."
"Let us hope, then," said M. Poirot. "The weather reports from Europe are bad."
"Verybad. In the Balkans there is much snow."
"In Germany, too, I have heard."
Above their heads the blinds of one of the sleeping-car compartments were pushed aside and a young woman looked out.
Her name was Mary Debenham. She felt restless and couldn't sleep in her overheated compartment; she got up and looked out of the carriage window.
Two men below her window were talking French. One was a French officer, the other was a little man with enormous moustaches, heavily muffled up. It must be very cold outside.
That was why they heated the train so terribly.
The sleeping-car conductor had come up to the two men. It was departure time for the train, and he advised the muffled up man to get aboard. The little man took off his hat. He had an egg-shaped head. He looked so ridiculous that Mary Debenham smiled in spite of her anxious thoughts. He was the sort of little man one could never take seriously.
Lieutenant Dubosc and Hercule Poirot exchanged beautiful parting speeches, M. Poirot climbed aboard the train, The conductor climbed after him. M. Poirot waved his hand.
Lieutenant Dubosc came to the salute, The train moved slowly forward.
"At last!" murmured M. Hercule Poirot.
"Brrrrr," said Lieutenant Dubosc, feeling how cold he was.