“My word, Poirot, it’s good to have a dog again.” “The spoils of war,” said Poirot. “But I would remind you, my friend, that it was to me that Miss Lawson presented Bob, not to you.” “Possibly,” I said. “But you’re not really any good with a dog, Poirot. You don’t understand dog psychology! Now Bob and I understand each other perfectly, don’t we?” “Woof,” said Bob in energetic assent.
The End