"The last surviving of the seven wonders of the world." "The latest expedition, by famous archaeologist Sir John Willard, may soon reveal more of this ancient world's mysteries, with the discovery of the tomb of the Egyptian king, Men-her-Ra." "No doubt, there will be rivalry between Dr. FossWell, of the British Museum, and Dr. Schneider, of the Metropolitan Museum of New york." "But... keep it friendly, hey, chaps?" "The local workers fear of a death curse laid down on a tomb over three thousand years ago, doesn't scare off expedition financier, Felix Bleibner." "He's being joined for the opening by his nephew Rupert, and secretary Nigel Harper photographing the occasion." "Smile, Men-her-Ra." "It's gonna take us some time to take the seal off intact, Sir John." "I dunno, break the seal." " It'll only take five minutes, John!" " For God's sake, Mr. Bleibner!" "The seal hasn't been broken for over three thousand years." "Then, it's time it was." "Gentlemen, the burial chamber of the king Men-her-Ra ." "Dr. Ames, quickly!" "He is ill." "Tragedy strikes in the Valley of the Kings." "Just minutes after breaking into the entering tomb of the Pharaoh Men-her-Ra, eminent archaeologist Sir John Willard is struck down by a fatal heart attack." "Local rumours, of an ancient curse on all those who enter the tomb, are being dismissed as preposterous." " Any messages, Miss Lemon?" " No, Mr. Poirot, no." "Oh, yes, one!" "Lady Willard telephoned." "She wants to consult you." "I know, isn't it awful?" "Does seem almost as if something was avenging itself for desecrating the tomb." " Bonjour, mademoiselle, I am expected." " Do come in." "Thank you." "My son has always been against my calling on your assistance, M. Poirot." "He thinks I'm listening to all this silly talk about the curse." "But my husband's death came as a very great shock to me." "Yes, of course." "And now, my son wishes to go out to Egypt, to continue his father's work." "I cannot tell you why, M. Poirot, but this whole enterprise has filled me with foreboding." "All those Americans, all those young men from Yale." "Seems they've been trying to take over the dig right from the start." "Mother, really!" "no cijeli ovaj poduhvat ispunio me je osjeÄ‡ajem zloslutnosti." "Mr. Bleibner put up the money for the entire show," "To je zbog svih onih Amerikanaca, svih tih mladiÄ‡a" "and without him there wouldn't be any dig." "Well, I never trusted Felix Bleibner, he's just a wealthy dabbler." " I see he's got his nephew out there now, too." " Rupert's only there to visit his uncle." "Excuse me, Lady Willard, how may I be of service to you?" "I imagine that there is no doubt that the death of your husband is from quite natural causes." "Well, I--..." "No doubt at all." "I'm so sorry, it appears we've wasted your time, Mr. Poirot." "I gave him a thorough examination before we came out here." "His heart was sound as a bell." "It is weird, tough isn't it?" "I mean, just the very instant the burial chamber was opened..." "I do not care about any rotten curse." "I'm off to New York on Thursday." " When is the happy day?" " Fourteenth of next month." "Unless Bob saves my life again." " He really did save my life once, you know?" " No kidding?" "I can save you from poor savement shipping, but I'm no good at impending marriages." "You three were together at Yale, right?" "God, does that seem an age ago!" "Who's going to take over the excavation, do you think?" "Well, that, uh, kindda depends on your uncle." "He is the money." "Do I get the impression, that Dr. Fosswell would not be worth?" "Sure, the British Museum has gotta be on the running." " What about the Metropolitan?" " Oh!" "Modesty forbids." "Isn't it time you people were in bed?" " Won't you join us, uncle?" " No, no." "I just can't sleep." "Could you look at this thumb in the morning?" "I'll have a look at it right now if you want, Mr. Bleibner." "Before I go to bed." "It's, uh, a cut I got the other day." "Okay." "Good night, gentlemen." "Miss Lemon, if you please, would you come through for a moment, with your notepad and pencil." "I want you to send a telegram to the Assistant Comissioner Bergman, in the Police Department of New Tork." "" " Please supply all available biographical material," "" " on M. Rupert Bleibner," "" " nephew to the wealthy M. Felix Bleibner." "" " Best wishes, Hercule Poirot " "." " I could say " "blog" "." " Commment?" "Instead of " "biographical" "." "I could say " "blog" "." " Is that a word, Miss Lemon?" " It sounds efficient." "I heard someone say it in a picture." "" " Gimme the 'blog' on Dutch Schultz, Miss Longfellow " "." "Biographical material will do very nicely, thank you, Miss Lemon." "What is it, Miss Lemon?" "There is no need for you to cable Assistant Commissioner Bergman." " How is that, Miss Lemon?" " You can cable captain Hastings instead." "But captain Hastings, he is in Califórnia." "No, he is on his way back." "He is staying in New York until Friday." "Who is it?" "Oh!" "It's Arthur Hastings, actually." " Who?" " Arthur Hastings." "I am a friend of your uncle." "Well, more of an acquaintance, really." "He said I should look you up." "Uncle Felix?" "Yes. you went out to Egypt to visit him recently, I gather?" " How do you know him?" " How?" "How?" "Oh, just as one does, you know..." "Just socially." "How did you find it out there?" "Egypt, I mean." "Hot." "Look, Mr. Hastings..." "I guess I'm not feeling all that sociable, today." "No, no, no." "I quite understand." "Goodbye." "Nice to meet you." "Come back again, sometime." "Yes, I'll have tea, porridge and bacon and eggs, please." " Eggs over easy?" " No, the other." "Two eggs, only side up." " Canadian bacon?" " Oh!" "Yes." "Thank you." "Good Lord!" "Felix Bleibner is dead!" "Died that three days ago." "I'm sorry." "I thought you already knew." "It was horrible, most horrible death." "He was blind, at the end." "Where is the doctor, Dr. Ames?" "I'll take you to him." "Now, mind the legs." "Mind the legs!" "Wouldn't it be better to wrap it?" "No." "No, I dont think so, it is better they're able to see what they're moving." "Dr. Ames, can I trouble for a moment?" "This is Sir Guy Willard, Sir John's son." " Dr. Ames, how do you do?" " Hello." " And this Mr. Harper." " How do you do?" " And Dr. Schneider..." " Dr. Schneider." "Sir Guy has come to take charge of the excavation." "Dr. Ames, I am devastated by the news of Mr. Bleibner." "It was septicemia." "Yes, but how did it start?" "A scratch on his thumb." "Nothing we could do seemed to stop it." " Dr. Ames amputated his left arm, last week, but..." " Amputated?" " Why was I not informed?" " Well, I, we were not aware that you were involved." "Well, I am involved." "The British Museum have aggreed that I should take over the excavation." "But surey Mr. Bleibner's death changes the situation." "Well, indeed it does, Dr. Schneider." "I suggest that we carry this as we are, until the wishes of Mr Reading are known." "In the meantime, perhaps you'd be good enough to take me to my quarters, Dr. Fosswell." "Gentlemen..." "Mr. Bleibner!" "Mr. Bleibner!" " Switch Board." " Give me the Police." " It came as a big surprise for everyone?" " Absolutely." "No one can understand it." "There just seem no worthy reason why he sould've killed himself." "He was only thirty." " His health, it was good?" " "Fit as a flea", it appears." "Something of a sportsman doer, as a matter of fact." "Played football at school, head sort of local record for one hundred yards." "Good golfer, quite of scratch." "You playing the good golf is no reason not to commit suicide, Hastings." "You just don't understand golf, Poirot." "What was his livelihood?" "Well, up until about six months ago he'd been in Hawaii, learning hotel business." "Did he have any emotional problems?" "Oh!" "Girls, you mean?" "Goog Lord, no." "He was all set to marry this absolute beauty Melany Wise." "Then he goes and shoots himself." "Mind you, the fist time I saw him, he did seem very, well... abstracted." "I mean, it was half way through the afternoon, he was still in his pajamas." "Looked as if he hadn't washed for a week too." "Oh!" "And, uh, he was wearing white gloves." " White gloves?" " Yes." "You know, white cotton gloves." " Did he have any money problems?" " None at all, as far as I could tell." "Even less, now that old Bleibner died." "The Bleibner millions came to him." "I say, that's a point." "I wonder who'll get the money now?" "Oh!" "He left a note, you know?" " No, Hastings." "I did not know." " I made a copy of it." "" " There's no point of going on." "I am a leper, an outcast." "" " It's better that I should end my life now," "" " than bring misery to the people that I love.Rupert Bleibner " "." "I didn't think you looked well at brakfast, Schneider." " Does it hurt here?" " A little." "If I move your arm like this, does that hurt?" "No, er..." "there's a sort of dull ache, though, around my shoulders and neck, all the time." " Do you have any trouble swallowing?" " Well, as a matter of fact, I do." "It started a few days ago." "How do you know that?" "Hassan!" "Oh, Dr. Ames!" "Yes?" "I'm going to drive to Cairo, to The British Hospital." "I've got to persuade them to give me antitoxic serum." " When will you be back, sir?" " By Friday, I hope, if I drive day and night." " Be careful, sir." " And Hassan... try and get to Cairo, by phone and let them know I'm on my way." "Thank you." "It goes on, M. Poirot." "First, my husband." "Then, Mr. Bleibner then his nephew." "Try to continue, Lady Willard." "Suppose there is some truth, in all this history about some curse?" "Tell me what has happened." "Mr. Schneider, of the Metropolitan Museum of New York, is very ill, with tetanus." "My son just sent me this telegram." "I'm sorry, you must think I am very silly and superstitious." "Non, non non." "Not at all, Lady Willard." "I also believe in the force of the superstition." "It is one of the greatest forces that the world has ever known." "And you wish that Poirot should protect your son against these forces." "Is it possible?" "But first, I must allow the little grey cells to do their work." " You're not pushing it, are you?" " Of course I'm not pushing it." "What is it writing?" "I can't see." "I can't make it out." "It seems to have stopped." "Let's see what it has written." "I can't make it out." "Yes, that's a C!" "That's an L!" "It's not very clear." "It's definitely trying to say something, though." "Perhaps it is not writing in English." " Looks like Arab, or something." "I say!" " What?" "Suppose it's king Man-her-Ra trying to get through?" "Miss Lem" " Hastings, what means this with the planchette?" "Oh, we're just fooling around." "It's interesting, though." " We think this could be from king Man-her-Ra." " Hastings, please." "Pull yourself together." "We have business to which we must attend." "Tomorrow we fly to Cairo." " In Egypt, Hastings." " I know." "And next, to the Valley of the Kings." " His jaw is broken." " Broken?" "The muscles contract so violently, they break the bones." "God!" "Is there anything we can do?" "He's not responding to the serum." "Ah!" "Bon Dieu!" " You must be M. Poirot." " What is left of him, yes." "I'm Leonard Fosswell, British Museum." "Ah, Monsieur Fosswell." "We got Lady Willard's cable." "I'm sorry, this isn't a good time." "Let me show you a tent." "Do you mind sharing it?" "Of course not." "I am Arthur Hastings, by the way." "Lady Willard said you'd be coming." "Hassan will assign one of the fellaheen to look after you, get you hot water and so." "Oh, this looks fine!" "Tell me, Dr. Fosswell." "Why is this not a good time?" " It's Dr. Schneider." " He is ill, right?" "He is..." " I can't already stand much more of this." " He's not responding?" "No." "He..." "seems to be getting worse." " Oh, God..." " Who is it?" " The detective my mother sent." " Sir Guy..." "He's dead." "And you are quite sure, are you not, Dr. Ames, that the death of Dr. Schneider." "was caused by tetanus?" "Sure." "It could not have been, for intance, a case of strychnine poisoning?" "Strychnine?" "!" "No, Mr. Poirot." "There's been no suggestion of anything like that, this was a clear case of tetanus." " Did you inject anti serum?" " of course we did." "Every conceivable thing that could be done, was done." "But monsieur Bleibner, he died of something completely different." "Mr. Bleibner had a scratch in his thumb." "It became poisoned and septicemia set in." "It sounds pretty much the same, for a layman, but the two things are entirely different." "You must ask any questions you need to, M. Poirot." "We are all dumfounded by this series of disasters, but it isn't a..." "It can't be anything but coincidence." "I see." "And you are determined, Sir Guy, to continue with these escavations?" "Look, M. Poirot, no matter what happens, my father's work is going on." "I see." "Alors, évidemment, we must discover exactly what is the position here." "That's the perfume box, height seven and half inches, depth five'n a quarter." "Sniff." " Jasmine!" " Three thousand year old jasmine." "How long have you been interested in egiptology, Mr. Harper?" "Oh!" "Ever since I started working as Mr. Bleibner's secretary." "Ever since college, almost." " You were in Yale, with R. Bleibner?" " Yes, I was there, in exchange scholaship." "Ames was there with us too." "Only in Yale's class of twenty seven." "That is most interesting." "There are four people in this expedition who have known each other for some considerable time." "Dr. Ames, Rupert Bleibner, yourself, all together at the college." "And, of course, the uncle of Rupert Bleibner." " Two of them are now dead." " Are you trying to give me the creeps?" "Tell me about M. Rupert." "I really don't understand him, doing what he did." "When he first arrived here, he was in good health?" "I think he hasn't had any real illness his entire life." "Was kind of hypochondriac, tough." "There were lots of little aches and pains he was always worried about." " When you last saw him, he was suffering?" " No, I can't remember anything in particular." "Oh, well, yes!" "He had a little eczema on his hand, he was making great to do about." "Master, I must speak with you." "Right." "Good evening." "I served mylord Sir John and now I serve his son." "Yes, quite." "You are a wise one, they say." "You know..." "The man who can deal with malignant spirits." "I beg of you, let the young master depart from here." "There is evil in the air around us." "Well, it's not really up to me." "You see..." "We have had four deaths, all totally dissimilar:" "One heart failure, one poisoning, one tetanus and one suicide." "Exactly." "Is there nothing which might link together these four?" "Something they have in common?" "No." "I'm sorry, M. Poirot, I don't quite understand it." "Then, M. Harper, let me make myself perfectly clear." "Was there any act commited by these men - or these victims- which might seem to denote some kind of disrespect to the spirit of Men-her-Ra?" "Good grief, man!" "That is all rot, as well you know." "We are talking nonsense." " You do not believe that such a thing is possible?" " No." "I do not." "We're man of Science." "I believe what Science teaches." "Indeed?" "Was there no Science in ancient Egypt?" "Oh, no, no, no." "Please, do not answer." "But tell me this, the native workmen, what do they think?" "What, if the white folk lose their head, then the natives aren't gonna be far behind." "Yes, I'll admit they're getting scared, but they've got no cause to be." "Excuse me, I..." " Let's take him to his tent." " Would a brandy help?" "I don't think so." "I am going to the tent." "Good Lord, poor fellow." " Tell me when you want another photograph." " Not yet." "Did you know, M. Poirot, what the wreath of flowers from the funeral ceremony was still lying on the antechamber floor when my father opened the tomb?" " It is amazing." "Is it not, Hastings?" " Absolutely." " How is Dr. Ames today?" " He is still unwell." "He got up today, but to tell the truth, I am rather worried about him." "I think we're ready." "Lift away, then." "Tie off." "Good God!" "He has laid here in perfect silence, since a thousand years before Troia was besieged." "Rome rose and fell." "Wars and catastrophes changed the face of the earth..." "And still this king here waited, forgotten by all those people a few feet above." " Dr. Fosswell?" " Come!" "What a moment, Dr. Fosswell!" "What?" "The privilege of merely standing by, when the lid of the sarcophagus was opened!" "I am just writing it up." "You write the reports for the expedition, n'est-ce-pas?" "For the expedition?" "No, no, no." "By no means." "A daily report, for the eyes of Sir Andrew Çairns only." "May I?" " Please." " Thank you." "Sir Andrew Çairns?" "He is the Keeper of Antiquities at the British Museum?" "Quite." "The others can do their own reports, though..." "No matter." "And M. Schneider, when he was alive, he would have the reports for Metropolitan Museum?" "I suppose so, yes." "I'm..." "I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but it does show the quality of their scholarship, doesn't it?" "When the Metropolitan have to send somebody like Schneider..." "Poor fellow." "The B. M. only would never send anyone but the most senior archaeologist." "And the future Keeper of Antiquities?" "What?" "Oh..." "I don't know about that." "Of course, Sir Andrew is due for retirement in two years." "And if I make a fair feast of this." "Well..." ""The Magic of the Egyptians and Chaldeans"" "Oh, you're in bed!" "This is a work most interesting, listen to this:" "" " May your knives not get hold of me," "" " may my hands not touch the poison;" "may I not fall into your slaughterhouse," "" " for I know your names and my heart is with Osiris " "." " Look here, Poirot, are you feeling alright?" " Perfectly, Hastings." "I mean, you've had a lot of sun in these last few days and you're not used to it, like I am." "I am perfectly well, thank you, Hastings." "Hastings, what is the matter with Miss Lemon?" "Miss Lemon?" "Nothing, that I know of." "Come, Hastings." "Do not do the shilly-shally with me." "Yourself played with her in the planchette." "Well, I think it's her cat." "You know, the one she used to call Catherine the Great, because she liked sleeping in the fireplace." "That cat, it died, did it not?" "Well, exactly." "She is fearfully cut up about it, and she's trying to get in touch with it." " I mean, I think that" " Hastings, look!" "Good God!" "" " Deliver me from that God whose face is that of a hound," "" " but whose skin is that of a man." "" " Who liveth upon the damned," "" " digesting human hearts and voiding filth " "." "" " One seeth him not " "..." "Hastings!" "What are you doing?" " Well, having my siesta." " No, no, no." "Get up, we have work to do." "We have work to do." "Come." " Whose tent is this, Hastings?" " Uh..." "Dr. Ames." "You must remain here en garde, my friend, while I make the search." "Search?" "!" "Oh, no!" "..." "Poirot!" " Well, well, well..." " I beg your pardon?" "Feeling a bit better, are you, Dr. Ames?" " Are you waiting for me?" " No, no." "I was looking for Poirot." "You haven't seen him at all, have you?" "I don't know where he's got to." "Poirot!" " Can I come past?" " What?" " I want to go to my tent." " Oh, this is your tent?" "I didn't realize that." "They're very good, these tents." "Aren't they?" "Please, captain Hastings!" " Poirot, you really are the limit!" " Regarde, the sand gets everywhere." "Ames must think that I am a complete idiot." " There's a lot of sand in Belgium, isn't there?" " Not in Brussels, Hastings." "Hello, Miss Lemon, can you hear me?" "Yes." "I found Mr. Bleibner's solicitor." "I spoke to him..." "One moment, if you please, Miss Lemon." "Hello?" "You said he read to you the will?" "Bon, what did it say?" "Yes, yes..." "" "Cigarette case" ", Miss Lemon?" "I think it was just a joke, Mr. Poirot." "I see." "Go on, if you please." "Thank you, Miss Lemon." "Au revoir." "Do you want some coins?" "Only if you're good." "I've half halfminded to volunteer to stay here." " What for, Hastings?" " To learn archaeology." "Can't you feel the fascination?" "Desert life." "Probing into the heart of vanished civilization." "My tisane." "Thank you, Hassan." "On the table next to my bed, if you please." "Thank you." "Wish we were getting somewhere with this case." "Sometimes I think it's not a case at all, three natural deaths and one suicide." "What do you think, Poirot?" "You don't seem to have any theory, at all." "Do you ?" "My God, Poirot!" "Dr. Ames!" "It's Poirot, quick!" " Hastings, what is it?" " It's Poirot." "He's here, dead." "I dunno." "Camomile tea." "Don't let Hassan leave the camp." "There's still a pulse." " What's going on?" " It's Poirot, he's collapsed." "Do you smell anything?" " Almonds." " Cyanide." "Which, fortunately, I did not drink." "Thank you, Hastings." "When my good friend Captain Hastings was calling for help," "I took the opportunity to pour the contents from that glass  into this little bottle." "And this little bottle will go to the analytical chemist." "The first death need not come in our calculations, except for one thing." "The quite natural death of your father, Sir Guy, is what gave to our murderer his idea." "The more deaths that ocurred, more everyone would talk about the curse of Men-her-Ra;" "and the less anyone would ask the proper questions." "I'm afraid we thought you were just as superstitious as the rest." "But that was my intention." "You see, I wanted to lure the a murderer into a false sense of security, until I was ready." "And in that I was successful." "The murderer thought that with one more little nudge would send me and Hastings back to England." "He thought that this cheap trick would do it, mais non." "I had to make him act." "And I have done then a something that so alarmed him, thar he feels that he now must add me to his role of victims." "What is it that I have done, that so alarmed our murderer" "flushed him out and made him try to poison me?" "Let us go back to the first murder..." "That of M. Felix Bleibner." "Isn't it time you people were in bed?" "Won't you join us, uncle?" "I asked myself who would want to kill M. Felix Bleibner." "Alors, he was a man who was very rich." "Therefore I first assumed it would be his heir and nephew, M. Rupert Bleibner." "Mais non." "M. Rupert Bleibner committed suicide before he heard of the death of his uncle." "And so my next question was why should M. Rupert Bleibner wish to take his own life?" "He was a man who was young, happy and successful." "He had no thought of death, it had not even made a proper will." "I could never understand him doing it." "And yet, Dr. Fosswell, he told us the reasons quite plainly and precisely, in the note that he left." "So plainly, indeed, that we thought that he was speaking metaphorically." "He wrote, did he not:" "" " I Am a leper and an outcast." "" " It's better that I should end my life now, that bring misery to the people that I love " "." "On the threshold of marriage..." "And the life who was happy and successful." "M. Rupert Bleiner believed that he was doomed." "He believed he had leprosy." "During his last days he even took to wearing gloves to hide the first unsightly signs of the disease." " But why should he think he had leprosy?" " Because, Hastings, he was told that he had." "And he had every good reason to believe it." "For some time he had been living in Hawaii, where the disease is endemic." "And while in Hawaii  he would have come across chaumugra oil." "He may not have heard of the more modern drags that are so beseemed, but would definitly come across chaumugra oil." "What is this chaumugra oil?" "Chaumugra oil, Hastings, was once the Only treatment for Leprosy." "But in this case, it was used merely as the window to convince Rupert Bleibner of his condition." "But how do you know that?" "I know that, Hastings, because I have stolen some chaumugra oil from the murderer." "Hercule Poirot has discovered his secret." "What secret?" "What is all this?" "M. Rupert Bleibner went to Dr. Ames, with a mild case of eczema." "And Dr. Ames diagnosed Leprosy and pauvre M. Rupert Bleibner saw no way out but death." "This is nonsense!" "I mean, why would I want Rupert to kill himself?" "He was my friend." "We went to college together." "In the possession of the lawyers of M. Rupert Bleibner is a sheat of paper." "It is old, it is creased." "Probably written on while of college, during some fit of a drunken merriment." "But the handwriting is that of M. Rupert Bleibner." "It reads as follows:" "" " This is the last will and testament of Rupert Bleibner." "" " I leave my cigarette case - which he admires so much" "" " and all of which as I die possessed," "" " to my good friend Robert Ames, who once saved my life from drowning " "." "You see, Dr. Ames, you knew that on the death of M. Felix Bleibner, his fortun, in entirety, would go for his heir and nephew, M. Rupert Bleibner." "But were M. Rupert Bleibner to die..." "All right, now get back." "All of you!" "Let me go!" "Set me free!" "You have already three deaths on your head, Dr. Ames." "Is that not enough?" "But Dr. Ames." "did not kill my husband." "No, Lady Willard." "The death of your husband, Sir John, was from quite natural causes." "You see, the only deaths that interested Dr. Ames were those of Mr. Bleibner, who perished from septicemia introduced into his cut hand by Dr. Ames himself;" "and Mr. Rupert Bleibner, who Dr. Ames drove to suicide by convincing that he suffers from Leprosy." " And Dr. Schneider?" " Indeed," "Dr. Ames injected poor Henry Schneider with "tetanus bacillus", merely to reinforce the theory of the curse of Men-her-Ra." "I think you've been wonderfully clever." " Goodbye, Sir." " Sir Guy..." " I return to the Valley of the Kings tomorrow." " This time, with my blessing." " Bonne chance." " The best, mother." "Au revoir." "Miss Lemon, would you come through for a moment?" "Miss Lemon, in addiction to solving this case, that has been most difficult," "Hastings and I, we have brought you back a little gift from the very tomb of the king Men-her-Ra." "From the tomb?" "!" "Oui." "Voilà!" "It is the very likeness of the favorite cat of the king Men-her-Ra." "buried with him in his tomb, to keep him company in his long journey." "Oh, he is beautiful!" "Go to bed this evening with him in your hand and Catherine the Great, it will visit you during the night." "Oh!" "Mr. Poirot, thank you." "I dunno how you can tell her such guff, Poirot." "Non, non, non." "It is not a guff, Hastings." "It is, as I said to Lady Willard in the beginning of the case, the power of superstition it is a power that is very gteat indeed."