Read THE CAPTURE OF CERBERUS on line
Hercule Poirot sipped his apéritif and looked out across the Lake of Geneva. He sighed. He had spent his morning talking to certain diplomatic personages, all in a state of high agitation, and he was tired. For he had been unable to offer them any comfort in their difficulties.Hercule Poirot sighed. He remembered 1914 only too well. He had no illusions about war. It settled nothing. The peace it brought in its wake was usually only the peace of exhaustion - not a constructive peace.
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