Poirot appears to have become increasingly arch. Anyone who manages to include Frances de la Tour, Barbara Flynn *and * Herr Lipp from the League of Gentlemen is surely turning a raised eyebrow into a receding hairline.
But golly, Frances De La Tour was fun. With her capes, her cigarette holders, and her sudden ability to swoop onto her haunces in the middle of a scene and glare up at Poirot yelling "I don't want to be covered in haddock."
I think I blew one of my gay fuses.
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