Audiobook (Fiction w. British & French accents)
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British (General) French (General) North American (Canadian-General) North American (General)Transcript
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Poirot passed along the corridor somewhat slow progress, as most of the people traveling was standing outside the carriages. His polite Paladins were uttered with the regularity of clockwork. At last, he reached the compartment indicated inside it. Reaching up to a suitcase was the tall young American of the toe Kathleen. He found his problem entered. Excuse me, he said. I think you've made a mistake. Then, laboriously in French Jakaya caboose, a Vanora Poirot replied in English. You are Mr Erez. No, my name is McQueen I. But at that moment, the voice of the vague only conductor spoke from over Poirot shoulder, an apologetic, rather breathless voice. There is no other berth on the train, Monsieur, the gentleman asked to come in. Here. He was hauling up the corridor window as he spoke and began to lift in Paros luggage. Poirot noticed the apology in his turn with some amusement. Doubtless, the man had been promised a good tip if he could keep the compartment for the sole use of the other traveler. However, even the most munificent of tips lose their effect. When a director of the company is on board and issues his orders, the conductor emerged from the compartment, having swung the suitcases up on the racks. Vala, monsieur, he said. All is arranged. Yours is the upper berth. The number seven. We start in. One minute, he hurried off down the corridor. Poirot re entered the compartment, a phenomenon I have seldom seen, he said cheerfully. A vaguely conductor himself puts up the luggage. It is unheard off. His fellow traveler smiled. He had evidently got over his annoyance, had probably decided that it was no good to take the matter other than philosophically, the trains remarkably full, he said. Ah, whistle blew. There was a long, melancholy cry from the engine. Both men stepped out into the corridor. Outside, a voice shouted On What you or off? Said McQueen, but they were not quite off. The whistle blew again. I say, sir, said the young man. Suddenly, if you'd rather have the lower birth easier and all that well, that's all right by me. No, no, protested Poirot. I would not deprive you. That's all right. You are too amiable. Polite protest on both sides. It is for one night only, explained poro at Belgrade. Oh, I see you're getting out of Belgrade? Not exactly. You see, there was a sudden jerk. Both men swung round to the window, looking out of the long lighted platform. Is it slid slowly past them. The Orient Express had started on its three days journey across Europe.