ou, Dorcas, that is all I have to ask you." He rose and strolled
to the window. "I have been admiring these flower beds. How many
gardeners are employed here, by the way?"

"Only three now, sir. Five, we had, before the war, when it was kept as
a gentleman's place should be. I wish you could have seen it then,
sir. A fair sight it was. But now there's only old Manning, and young
William, and a new-fashioned woman gardener in breeches and such-like.
Ah, these are dreadful times!"

"The good times will come again, Dorcas. At least, we hope so. Now, will
you send Annie to me here?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"How did you know that Mrs. Inglethorp took sleeping powders?" I asked,
in lively curiosity, as Dorcas left the room. "And about the lost key
and the duplicate?"

"One thing at a time. As to the sleeping powders, I knew by this."
He suddenly produced a small cardboard box, such as chemists use for
powders.

"Where did you find it?"

"In the wash-stand drawer in Mrs. Inglethorp's bedroom. It was Number
Six of my catalogue."

"But I suppose, as the last powder was taken two days ago, it is not of
much importance?"

"Probably not, but do you notice anything that strikes you as peculiar
about this box?"

I examined it closely.

"No, I can't say that I do."

"Look at the label."

I read the label carefully: "'One powder to be taken at bedtime, if
required. Mrs. Inglethorp.' No, I see nothing unusual."

"Not the fact that there is no chemist's name?"

"Ah!" I exclaimed. "To be sure, that is odd!"

"Have you ever known a chemist to send out a box like that, without his
printed name?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

I was becoming quite excited, but Poirot damped my ardour by remarking:

"Yet the explanation is quite simple. So do not intrigue yourself, my
friend."

An audible creaking proclaimed the approach of Annie, so I had no time
to reply.

Annie was a fine, strapping girl, and was evidently labouring under
intense excitement, mingled with a certain ghoulish enjoyment of the
tragedy.

Poirot came to the point at once, with a business-like briskness.

"I sent for you, Annie, because I thought you might be able to tell me
something about the letters Mrs. Inglethorp wrote last night. How many
were there? And can you tell me any of the names and addresses?"

Annie considered.

"There were four letters, sir. One was to Miss Howard, and one was
to Mr. Wells, the lawyer, and the other two