A glance at the passengers.

     The following day I have risen early. I was a bit late entering the dining-car, so I had to eat breakfast practically alone. I spend the whole morning studying my notes of the case that was calling me back to London. After some time, Mr. Bouc invited me to his table. The table was very well positioned, it was the first to be served, I cannot say I didn't enjoy that. The food was extremely good, as for a train, which was a pleasant surprise for me. It was a pleasant change from the food in Syria, which didn't quite suit my stomach. There were 13 passengers in the dining-car at the moment. All classes and all nationalities. I began to study them closely.

     At the table opposite of ours three men were seated. One was a big, dark skinned Italian, who was picking his teeth. Opposite to the Italian, was a well-trained English servant, with a neat face which had no expression. Next to the servant was a big American, probably a commercial traveller.

     At a small table sat probably the ugliest old lady I have ever seen. It was kind of fascinating, as she seemed a very important character. Around her neck was a collar made of very big, real pearls, which must have been a very expensive one. On her hands was a countless number of rings. I learned from Mr. Bouc that the ugly lady was Princess Dragomiroff, a very rich Russian aristocrat.

     At a different table, sat a woman I thought I would never see again. Yes, it was Miss Debenham. Sitting next to her was a tall, probably middle-aged woman in a tweed skirt and a plaid blouse. Her hair was fading yellow, put in a large bun. She wore glasses. Her face was long and amiable. She was listening to a third, elderly woman with a kind face. She was speaking with a slow monotonous voice, telling all kinds of stories about her daughter.

     At a rather small table Colonel Arbuthnot sat alone. His eyes were turned upon Miss Debenham's hand. Why are they not sitting together if it could have been so easily done? Did she refuse? Surely, a girl with a living like hers to get has to be discreet with her companions.

     At the other side of the carriage a maid was sitting alone. She was middle-aged and her face was as expressionless as the English servant's. She was poorly dressed in black. She must have been German, I thought.

     After the maid came a couple leaning forward to each other and talking. The man wore English clothes, but I could easily tell that he did not come from England by the shape of his head and shoulders. He was too big to be English, I'm sure of it. He turned his head, so I could see his profile. He was indeed a very handsome man about thirty, with a big moustache. The woman sitting opposite to him, probably his wife wore a tight black coat and skirt white satin blouse, all very fashionable. She was very foreign looking. Pale skin, big dark eyes, dark hair. A very cute couple they made. I learned from Mr. Bouc that it was Hungarian embassy.

     There were only two more passengers in the dining-car. My fellow traveller, Mr MacQueen and his boss, Mr. Ratchett, who was sitting facing me. Once again i studied that kind looking face and eyes full of cruelty and evil. 

     After we had some coffee, Mr. Bouc invited me to his compartment for a conversation, when I finish my coffee. I agreed, of course, and ordered a liqueur. I heard the elderly American lady complaining. Then, Miss Debenham left, with Colonel Arbuthnot right behind her. Everybody had slowly departed from the dining-car by now, and there was only me, and the beast left.

     Ratchett, to my surprise, sat opposite to me, and started telling me about his enemies. He offered me a job - I was to take up his case. I refused. As I have said, I do not like that man's face.