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of this thing whether they seemed to me relevant or not."

"And I am pleased with you. You have a good memory, and you have given

me the facts faithfully. Of the order in which you present them, I say

nothing--truly, it is deplorable! But I make allowances--you are upset. To

that I attribute the circumstance that you have omitted one fact of

paramount importance."

What is that?" I asked.

"You have not told me if Mrs. Inglethorp ate well last night."

I stared at him. Surely the war had affected the little man's brain. He was

carefully engaged in brushing his coat before putting it on, and seemed

wholly engrossed in the task.

I don't remember," I said. "And, anyway, I don't see----"

You do not see? But it is of the first importance."

I can't see why," I said, rather nettled. "As far as I can remember, she didn't

eat much. She was obviously upset, and it had taken her appetite away.

That was only natural."

Yes," said Poirot thoughtfully, "it was only natural."

He opened a drawer, and took out a small despatch-case, then turned to me.

Now I am ready. We will proceed to the chateau, and study matters on the

spot. Excuse me, mon ami, you dressed in haste, and your tie is on one

side. Permit me." With a deft gesture, he rearranged it.

Ca y est! Now, shall we start?"

We hurried up the village, and turned in at the lodge gates. Poirot stopped

for a moment, and gazed sorrowfully over the beautiful expanse of park, still

glittering with morning dew.

"So beautiful, so beautiful, and yet, the poor family, plunged in sorrow,

prostrated with grief."

He looked at me keenly as he spoke, and I was aware that I reddened under

The Mysterious Affair at Styles