day at lunch-time, sir, and told me to look
carefully for it. She was very much put out about it."

"But she had a duplicate key?"

"Oh, yes, sir."

Dorcas was looking very curiously at him and, to tell the truth, so was
I. What was all this about a lost key? Poirot smiled.

"Never mind, Dorcas, it is my business to know things. Is this the key
that was lost?" He drew from his pocket the key that he had found in the
lock of the despatch-case upstairs.

Dorcas's eyes looked as though they would pop out of her head.

"That's it, sir, right enough. But where did you find it? I looked
everywhere for it."

"Ah, but you see it was not in the same place yesterday as it was
to-day. Now, to pass to another subject, had your mistress a dark green
dress in her wardrobe?"

Dorcas was rather startled by the unexpected question.

"No, sir."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Oh, yes, sir."

"Has anyone else in the house got a green dress?"

Dorcas reflected.

"Miss Cynthia has a green evening dress."

"Light or dark green?"

"A light green, sir; a sort of chiffon, they call it."

"Ah, that is not what I want. And nobody else has anything green?"

"No, sir--not that I know of."

Poirot's face did not betray a trace of whether he was disappointed or
otherwise. He merely remarked:

"Good, we will leave that and pass on. Have you any reason to believe
that your mistress was likely to take a sleeping powder last night?"

"Not _last_ night, sir, I know she didn't."

"Why do you know so positively?"

"Because the box was empty. She took the last one two days ago, and she
didn't have any more made up."

"You are quite sure of that?"

"Positive, sir."

"Then that is cleared up! By the way, your mistress didn't ask you to
sign any paper yesterday?"

"To sign a paper? No, sir."

"When Mr. Hastings and Mr. Lawrence came in yesterday evening, they
found your mistress busy writing letters. I suppose you can give me no
idea to whom these letters were addressed?"

"I'm afraid I couldn't, sir. I was out in the evening. Perhaps Annie
could tell you, though she's a careless girl. Never cleared the
coffee-cups away last night. That's what happens when I'm not here to
look after things."

Poirot lifted his hand.

"Since they have been left, Dorcas, leave them a little longer, I pray
you. I should like to examine them."

"Very well, sir."

"What time did you go out last evening?"

"About six o'clock, sir."

"Thank y