‘I didn’t want you to think I’d been kidnapped, Miss Bulstrode,’ said Julia.

‘I appreciate that, but I think, Julia, that you might have told me what you were planning to do.’

‘I thought I’d better not,’ said Julia, and added unexpectedly, ‘Les oreilles ennemies nous écoutent.’

‘Mademoiselle Blanche doesn’t seem to have done much to improve your accent yet,’ said Miss Bulstrode, briskly. ‘But I’m not scolding you, Julia.’ She looked from Julia to Poirot. ‘Now, if you please, I want to hear exactly what has happened.’

‘You permit?’ said Hercule Poirot. He stepped across the room, opened the door and looked out. He made an exaggerated gesture of shutting it. He returned beaming.

‘We are alone,’ he said mysteriously. ‘We can proceed.’

Miss Bulstrode looked at him, then she looked at the door, then she looked at Poirot again. Her eyebrows rose. He returned her gaze steadily. Very slowly Miss Bulstrode inclined her head. Then, resuming her brisk manner, she said, ‘Now then, Julia, let’s hear all about this.’

Julia plunged into her recital. The exchange of tennis racquets, the mysterious woman. And finally her discovery of what the racquet contained. Miss Bulstrode turned to Poirot. He nodded his head gently.

‘Mademoiselle Julia has stated everything correctly,’ he said. ‘I took charge of what she brought me. It is safely lodged in a bank. I think therefore that you need anticipate no further developments of an unpleasant nature here.’

‘I see,’ said Miss Bulstrode. ‘Yes, I see…’ She was quiet for a moment or two and then she said, ‘You think it wise for Julia to remain here? Or would it be better for her to go to her aunt in London?’

‘Oh please,’ said Julia, ‘do let me stay here.’

‘You’re happy here then?’ said Miss Bulstrode.

‘I love it,’ said Julia. ‘And besides, there have been such exciting things going on.’

‘That is not a normal feature of Meadowbank,’ said Miss Bulstrode, dryly.

‘I think that Julia will be in no danger here now,’ said Hercule Poirot. He looked again towards the door.

‘I think I understand,’ said Miss Bulstrode.

‘But for all that,’ said Poirot, ‘there should be discretion. Do you understand discretion, I wonder?’ he added, looking at Julia.

‘M. Poirot means,’ said Miss Bulstrode, ‘that he would like you to hold your tongue about what you found. Not talk about it to the other girls. Can you hold your tongue?’

‘Yes,’ said Julia.

‘It is a very good story to tell to your friends,’ said Poirot. ‘Of what you found in a tennis racquet in the dead of night. But there are important reasons why it would be advisable that that story should not be told.’

‘I understand,’ said Julia.

‘Can I trust you, Julia?’ said Miss Bulstrode.

‘You can trust me,’ said Julia. ‘Cross my heart.’

Miss Bulstrode smiled. ‘I hope your mother will be home before long,’ she said.

‘Mummy? Oh, I do hope so.’

‘I understand from Inspector Kelsey,’ said Miss Bulstrode, ‘that every effort is being made to get in touch with her. Unfortunately,’ she added, ‘Anatolian buses are liable to unexpected delays and do not always run to schedule.’