‘Surely, Poirot, that has got no connection with this business.’
‘You are blind, Hastings, blind and wilfully obtuse. Do you not see that the whole thing makes a pattern? A pattern confused at present but which will gradually become clear…’
I felt Poirot was being over-optimistic. I did not feel that anything would ever become clear. My brain was frankly reeling.
Oh, Hastings, you magnificent, long-suffering soul.
I'm loving this book. It is a lot of fun.