The Murder on the Links by Agatha Christie 22 I Find Love For a moment or two I sat as though frozen, the photograph still in my hand. Then, summoning all my courage to appear unmoved, I handed it back. At the same time, I stole a quick glance at Poirot. Had he noticed anything? But to my relief he did not seem to be observing me. Anything unusual in my manner had certainly escaped him. He rose briskly to his feet. “We have no time to lose. We must make our departure with all despatch. All is well—the sea