‘Mille tonnerres! what is that?’
He dragged me back — just in time. A tree had crashed down on to the sidewalk, just missing us. Poirot stared at it, pale and upset.
‘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.
-The Big Four