"It was a near thing, that! But clumsy, all the same, for I had no suspicion - at least, hardly any suspicion. Yes, but for my quick eyes, the eyes of a cat, Hercule Poirot might now be crushed out of existence - a terrible calamity for the world. And you too, mon ami - though that would not be such a national catastrophe."
"Thank you," I said coldly, "And what are we going to do now?"
Poirot is so full of himself.