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Practice and improve writing style. Write like Agatha Christie

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“If you will excuse me a minute,” I said, struck by a sudden idea.

 

“Our own car isn’t down here. One came out from the garage in Elmer’s Dale to fetch him in time for the train.”

 

“But at a price, Hastings, always at a price, croyez moi!”

 

“There’s a gentleman downstairs. Says he must see M. Poirot or you, Captain. Seeing as he was in a great to-do,—and with all that quite the gentleman,—I brought up ’is card.”

 

“I’m afraid not. I didn’t see him. Mrs. Middleton showed him straight into the gun-room and then came to tell my uncle.”

 

“The moment has come,” said Poirot thoughtfully, “and I do not know what to do. For, see you, it is a big stake for which I play. No one but I, Hercule Poirot, would attempt it!” And he tapped himself proudly on the breast.

 

“It is, as you see, highly magnified. You may have noticed a sort of blur extending all across the picture. I will not describe to you the special apparatus, dusting powder, etc., which I used. It is a well-known process to the police, and by means of it you can obtain a photograph of the finger-prints of any object in a very short space of time. Well, my friend, you have seen the finger-marks—it remains to tell you the particular object on which they had been left.”

 

“That was pure chance. If the others had been there, I should have done just the same.”

 

With a sigh, Cynthia flung herself down, and tossed off her hat. The sunlight, piercing through the branches, turned the auburn of her hair to quivering gold.

 

“Mr. Inglethorp,” said the Coroner, “you have heard your wife’s dying words repeated here. Can you explain them in any way?”

 

Nothing abashed, she returned my glance, and executed an expressive grimace.

 

“7th June. Quarrel with tramp in garden, witnessed by Marthe Daubreuil.

 

“Yesterday it was Mademoiselle Daubreuil, today it is Mademoiselle—Cinderella! Decidedly you have the heart of a Turk, Hastings! You should establish a harem!”

 

“I may have done,” muttered the other. “I don’t know.”

 

“It is that I have arranged you a marriage, Hastings.”

 

 

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