The famous “little gray cells” of the great detective Poirot function admirably in solving what at first seems a particularly puzzling murder mystery. “After all,” murmured Poirot, “it is possible that I shall not die this time.” Coming from a convalescent influenza patient, I hailed the remark as showing a beneficial optimism. I myself had been the first sufferer from the disease. Poirot in his turn had gone down. He was now sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows. “Yes, yes,” my little frie