“Rather eccentric, I’m afraid,” said Poirot. “Most of that family are. Spoilt, of course. Always inclined to tilt at windmills.” He added carelessly, “You recognized him, I suppose?” “Recognized him?” “Calls himself Ferguson and won’t use his title because of his advanced ideas.” “His title?” Miss Van Schuyler’s tone was sharp. “Yes, that’s young Lord Dawlish. Rolling in money, of course, but he became a communist when he was at Oxford.”
