‘Is it really necessary to tell such elaborate lies, Poirot?’ I asked as we walked away.
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
‘If one is going to tell a lie at all– and I notice, by the way, that your nature is very much averse to lying– now, me, it does not trouble at all– ‘
‘So I’ve noticed,’ I interjected.
‘–As I was remarking, if one is going to tell a lie at all, it might as well be an artistic lie, a romantic lie, a convincing lie!’