point—how did you know that the key of the despatch-case had been lost?”
“I did not know it. It was a guess that turned out to be correct. You observed that it had a piece of twisted wire through the handle. That suggested to me at once that it had possibly been wrenched off a flimsy key-ring. Now, if it had been lost and recovered, Mrs. Inglethorp would at once have replaced it on her bunch; but on her bunch I found what was obviously the duplicate key, very new and bright, which led me to the
“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?”