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"Yes. Coarse kitchen salt, it looked. I never noticed it when I took the tray

up, but when I came to take it into the mistress's room I saw it at once, and

I suppose I ought to have taken it down again, and asked Cook to make

some fresh. But I was in a hurry, because Dorcas was out, and I thought

maybe the coco itself was all right, and the salt had only gone on the tray.

So I dusted it off with my apron, and took it in."

I had the utmost difficulty in controlling my excitement. Unknown to herself,

Annie had provided us with an important piece of evidence. How she would

have gaped if she had realized that her "coarse kitchen salt" was strychnine,

one of the most deadly poisons known to mankind. I marvelled at Poirot's

calm. His self-control was astonishing. I awaited his next question with

impatience, but it disappointed me.

When you went into Mrs. Inglethorp's room, was the door leading into Miss

Cynthia's room bolted?"

Oh! Yes, sir; it always was. It had never been opened."

And the door into Mr. Inglethorp's room? Did you notice if that was bolted

too?"

Annie hesitated.

I couldn't rightly say, sir; it was shut but I couldn't say whether it was

bolted or not."

When you finally left the room, did Mrs. Inglethorp bolt the door after you?"

No, sir, not then, but I expect she did later. She usually did lock it at night.

The door into the passage, that is."

"Did you notice any candle grease on the floor when you did the room

yesterday?"

"Candle grease? Oh, no, sir. Mrs. Inglethorp didn't have a candle, only a

reading-lamp."

"Then, if there had been a large patch of candle grease on the floor, you

think you would have been sure to have seen it?"

The Mysterious Affair at Styles