diameter- and certainly had the effect of having
been freshly made.
Poirot bent down to examine them, looking in-quiringly
at the valet.
"It's certainly curious, sir. I don't remember
ever seeing those holes in the past, though maybe I
wouldn't notice them."
"It makes no matter," said Poirot.
Closing the lid of the chest, he stepped back into
the room until he was standing with his back
against the window. Then he suddenly asked a
question.
"Tell me," he said. "When you brought the x
cigarettes into your master that night,, was there
not something out of place in the room?"
Burgoyne hesitated for a minute, then with
some slight reluctance he replied,
"It's odd your saying that, sir. Now you come
to mention it, there was. That screen there that
cuts off the draft from the bedroom door--it was
moved a bit more to the left."
"Like this?"
Poirot darted nimbly forward and pulled at the
screen. It was a handsome affair of painted
leather. It already slightly obscured the view of the
chest, and as Poirot adjusted it, it hid the chest
altogether.
"That's right, sir," said the valet. "It was like
that."
"And the next morning?"