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Nobody entered or left that boudoir。 What then occasioned this sudden
change of sentiment？
〃One can only guess； but I believe my guess to be correct。 Mrs。
Inglethorp had no stamps in her desk。 We know this； because later she
asked Dorcas to bring her some。 Now in the opposite corner of the room
stood her husband's desklocked。 She was anxious to find some stamps；
and； according to my theory； she tried her own keys in the desk。 That
one of them fitted I know。 She therefore opened the desk； and in
searching for the stamps she came across something elsethat slip of
paper which Dorcas saw in her hand； and which assuredly was never
meant for Mrs。 Inglethorp's eyes。 On the other hand； Mrs。 Cavendish
believed that the slip of paper to which her mother…in…law clung so
tenaciously was a written proof of her own husband's infidelity。 She
demanded it from Mrs。 Inglethorp who assured her； quite truly； that it had
nothing to do with that matter。 Mrs。 Cavendish did not believe her。 She
thought that Mrs。 Inglethorp was shielding her stepson。 Now Mrs。
Cavendish is a very resolute woman； and； behind her mask of reserve； she
was madly jealous of her husband。 She determined to get hold of that
paper at all costs； and in this resolution chance came to her aid。 She
happened to pick up the key of Mrs。 Inglethorp's despatch…case； which had
been lost that morning。 She knew that her mother…in…law invariably kept
all important papers in this particular case。
〃Mrs。 Cavendish； therefore； made her plans as only a woman driven
desperate through jealousy could have done。 Some time in the evening
she unbolted the door leading into Mademoiselle Cynthia's room。
Possibly she applied oil to the hinges； for I found that it opened quite
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noiselessly when I tried it。 She put off her project until the early hours of
the morning as being safer； since the servants were accustomed to hearing
her move about her room at that time。 She dressed completely in her
land kit； and made her way quietly through Mademoiselle Cynthia's room
into that of Mrs。 Inglethorp。〃
He paused a moment； and Cynthia interrupted：
〃But I should have woken up if anyone had come through my room？〃
〃Not if you were drugged； mademoiselle。〃
〃Drugged？〃
〃Mais； oui！〃
〃You remember〃he addressed us collectively again〃that through all
the tumult and noise next door Mademoiselle Cynthia slept。 That
admitted of two possibilities。 Either her sleep was feignedwhich I did
not believeor her unconsciousness was indeed by artificial means。
〃With this latter idea in my mind； I examined all the coffee…cups most
carefully； remembering that it was Mrs。 Cavendish who had brought
Mademoiselle Cynthia her coffee the night before。 I took a sample from
each cup； and had them analysedwith no result。 I had counted the cups
carefully； in the event of one having been removed。 Six persons had
taken coffee； and six cups were duly found。 I had to confess myself
mistaken。
〃Then I discovered that I had been guilty of a very grave oversight。
Coffee had been brought in for seven persons； not six； for Dr。 Bauerstein
had been there that evening。 This changed the face of the whole affair；
for there was now one cup missing。 The servants noticed nothing； since
Annie； the housemaid； who took in the coffee； brought in seven cups； not
knowing that Mr。 Inglethorp never drank it； whereas Dorcas； who cleared
them away the following morning； found six as usualor strictly speaking
she found five； the sixth being the one found broken in Mrs。 Inglethorp's
room。
〃I was confident that the missing cup was that of Mademoiselle
Cynthia。 I had an additional reason for that belief in the fact that all the
cups found contained sugar； which Mademoiselle Cynthia never took in
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her coffee。 My attention was attracted by the story of Annie about some
'salt' on the tray of coco which she took every night to Mrs。 Inglethorp's
room。 I accordingly secured a sample of that coco； and sent it to be
analysed。〃
〃But that had already been done by Dr。 Bauerstein；〃 said Lawrence
quickly。
〃Not exactly。 The analyst was asked by him to report whether
strychnine was； or was not； present。 He did not have it tested； as I did；
for a narcotic。〃
〃For a narcotic？〃
〃Yes。 Here is the analyst's report。 Mrs。 Cavendish administered a
safe； but effectual； narcotic to both Mrs。 Inglethorp and Mademoiselle
Cynthia。 And it is possible that she had a mauvais quart d'heure in
consequence！ Imagine her feelings when her mother…in…law is suddenly
taken ill and dies； and immediately after she hears the word 'Poison'！ She
has believed that the sleeping draught she administered was perfectly
harmless； but there is no doubt that for one terrible moment she must have
feared that Mrs。 Inglethorp's death lay at her door。 She is seized with
panic； and under its influence she hurries downstairs； and quickly drops
the coffee…cup and saucer used by Mademoiselle Cynthia into a large brass
vase； where it is discovered later by Monsieur Lawrence。 The remains of
the coco she dare not touch。 Too many eyes are upon her。 Guess at her
relief when strychnine is mentioned； and she discovers that after all the
tragedy is not her doing。
〃We are now able to account for the symptoms of strychnine poisoning
being so long in making their appearance。 A narcotic taken with
strychnine will delay the action of the poison for some hours。〃
Poirot paused。 Mary looked up at him； the colour slowly rising in her
face。
〃All you have said is quite true； Monsieur Poirot。 It was the most
awful hour of my life。 I shall never forget it。 But you are wonderful。
I understand now〃
〃What I meant when I told you that you could safely confess to Papa
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Poirot； eh？ But you would not trust me。〃
〃I see everything now；〃 said Lawrence。 〃The drugged coco； taken on
top of the poisoned coffee； amply accounts for the delay。〃
〃Exactly。 But was the coffee poisoned； or was it not？ We come to a
little difficulty here； since Mrs。 Inglethorp never drank it。〃
〃What？〃 The cry of surprise was universal。
〃No。 You will remember my speaking of a stain on the carpet in Mrs。
Inglethorp's room？ There were some peculiar points about that stain。 It
was still damp； it exhaled a strong odour of coffee； and imbedded in the
nap of the carpet I found some little splinte