Page 37 (1/1)

"It isn't Strychnine, is it?"

"Where did you find this?" I asked Poirot, in lively curiosity

"In the waste-paper basket You recognise the handwriting?"

"Yes, it is Mrs Inglethorp's But what does it ed his shoulders

"I cannot say--but it is suggestive"

A wild idea flashed across ed? Had she some fantastic idea of demoniacal possession? And, if that were so, was it not also possible that she ht have taken her own life?

I was about to expound these theories to Poirot, when his oords distracted me

"Come," he said, "now to examine the coffee-cups!"

"My dear Poirot! What on earth is the good of that, now that we know about the coco?"

"Oh, la la! That hed with apparent enjoy his arms to heaven in mock despair, in what I could not but consider the worst possible taste

"And, anyway," I said, with increasing coldness, "as Mrs Inglethorp took her coffee upstairs with her, I do not see what you expect to find, unless you consider it likely that we shall discover a packet of strychnine on the coffee tray!"

Poirot was sobered at once

"Coh mine "Ne vous fachez pas! Allow me to interest myself in my coffee-cups, and I will respect your coco There! Is it a bargain?"

He was so quaintly huether to the drawing-room, where the coffee-cups and tray remained undisturbed as we had left theht before, listening very carefully, and verifying the position of the various cups

"So Mrs Cavendish stood by the tray--and poured out Yes Then she came across to the here you sat with Mademoiselle Cynthia Yes Here are the three cups And the cup on the mantel-piece, half drunk, that would be Mr Lawrence Cavendish's And the one on the tray?"

"John Cavendish's I saw him put it down there"

"Good One, two, three, four, five--but where, then, is the cup of Mr Inglethorp?"

"He does not take coffee"

"Then all are accounted for One moment, my friend"

With infinite care, he took a drop or two fro the each in turn as he did so His physiognoathered there that I can only describe as half puzzled, and half relieved