It was in June of 1935that I came home from my ranch in South Americafor a stay of about six months.It had been a difficult time for us outthere.Like everyone else，we had suffered from world depression.I hadvarious affairs to see to in England that I felt could only be successful ifa personal touch was introduced.My wife remained to manage the ranch. I need hardly say that one of my first actions on reaching England wasto look up my old friend，Hercule Poirot. I found him installed in one of the newest type of service flats inLondon
.I accused him (and he admitted the fact)of having chosen thisparticular building entirely on account of its strictly geometricalappearance and proportions. "But yes，my friend，it is of a most pleasing symmetry，do you not findit so?"
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