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Rh an overcoat buttoned up to his chin, and a soft hat well pulled down over his eyes.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, for my somewhat unceremonious entry,” he said in a soft voice, “but my business is of a rather unorthodox nature.”

Smiling, he advanced to the table and sat down by it. I was about to spring up, but Poirot restrained me with a gesture.

“As you say, monsieur, your entry is somewhat unceremonious. Will you kindly state your business?”

“My dear M. Poirot, it is very simple. You have been annoying my friends.”

“In what way?”

“Come, come, Monsieur Poirot. You do not seriously ask me that? You know as well as I do.”

“It depends, monsieur, upon who these friends of yours are.”

Without a word, the man drew from his pocket a cigarette case, and, opening it, took out four cigarettes and tossed them on the table. Then he picked them up and returned them to his case, which he replaced in his pocket.

“Aha!” said Poirot, “so it is like that, is it? And what do your friends suggest?”

“They suggest, monsieur, that you should