A conversation between Poirot and “The Third Girl.”
“And how did you know me, may I ask? What made you recognize me?”
“Your mustache,” said Norma immediately. “It couldn’t be anyone else.”
He was gratified by that observation and stroked it with pride and vanity that he was apt to display on these occasions.
“Ah, yes, very true. Yes, there are not many mustaches such as mine. It is a fine one, hein?”
“Yes—well, yes—I suppose it is.”
“Ah, you are perhaps not a connoisseur of mustaches, but I can tell you . . . that it is a very fine mustache.”
from Third Girl