Arbuthnot, A tall man entered the restaurant car. His age was between forty and fifty; he was lean; his skin was brown; his hair was slightly grey round the temples., The Colonel shot a slightly annoyed glance in Poirot's direction and said, “But I don't like the idea of your being a governess – running errands for tyrannical mothers and their tiresome brats.”, Colonel Arbuthnot sat alone at the next small table. His gaze was fixed upon the back of Mary Debenham's head. They were not sitting together though it could easily have been arranged. Why?, MacQueen, A likeable young fellow., When MacQueen saw Poirot, he broke off something he was saying. He looked very much surprised., MacQueen didn't show any sign of shock. He just whistled, and his eyes grew a bit brighter., Ratchett, That man was much older – between sixty and seventy. His face with his smiling mouth might produce an impression of kindness, but his eyes, small and deep-set, were cunning. When he looked at Poirot for a second, there was a strange malice, an unnatural tension in his glance. His voice, when he addressed his young companion, had a strange, soft, dangerous quality., "Mr. Poirot, I am a very rich man. Men in that position have enemies. I have an enemy.", This man Cassetti was the head of the gang who had kidnapped the child. And in the past they had used the same methods. If they felt that the police were on their trail, they killed their prisoner, hid the body, and continued to extract as much money as possible before the crime was discovered., Mrs Hubbard, Everyone on the train who could understand English knew all about Mrs. Hubbard's daughter by now, and that this was Mrs. Hubbard's first journey to the East, and what she thought of the Turks and the condition of their roads., She insists – but insists – that there is a man in her compartment! Just imagine, Monsieur. In so small a space, where would he hide? But she will not listen. She insists. She woke up, and there was a man there. And how, I ask, did he get out and leave the door bolted behind him?, “Nobody knows a thing on this train. And nobody’s trying to do anything. Just a crowd of useless foreigners. Why, if this were at home, there’d be someone at least trying to do something!”, Miss Debenham, He saw only one person in the restaurant car, obviously the young English lady mentioned by the conductor. She was tall, slim and dark – perhaps twenty-eight years of age. She wore a dark-coloured travelling dress of some thin material suitable for the heated atmosphere of the train., He decided this young woman could take care of herself with perfect ease wherever she went. She had self-possession and efficiency. He liked her appearance: the regular features and the delicate pallor of her face, the neat waves of her dark hair, and her cool grey eyes. But, in his opinion, she was just a little too efficient to be called beautiful., “You are a philosopher, Mademoiselle.” “I think my attitude is more selfish. I have learned to save myself useless emotion.”.

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