the member of my staff who was in charge

of the girls was in any way to blame - except that she might, perhaps, have discovered the girl's absence sooner."

Poirot said:

"You have received a visit, perhaps,

from the police ?"

A faint shiver passed over Miss Pope's

aristocratic form. She said glacially:

"A Monsieur Lefarge of the Prefecture

called to see me, to see if I could throw

any light upon the situation. Naturally I

was unable to do so. He then demanded

to inspect Winnie's trunk which had, of

course, arrived here with those of the other

girls. I told him that that had already

been called for by another member of the

police. Their departments, I fancy, must

overlap. I got a telephone call, shortly

afterwards, insisting that I had not turned

344

over all Winnie's possessions to them. I

was extremely short with them over that.

One must not submit to being bullied by

officialdom."

Poirot drew a long breath. He said:

"You have a spirited nature. I admire

you for it. Mademoiselle. I presume that

Winnie's trunk had been unpacked on

arrival ?"

Miss Pope looked a little put out of

countenance.

"Routine," she said. "We live strictly

by routine. The girls' trunks are unpacked

on arrival and their things put away in the

way I expect them to be kept. Winnie's

things were unpacked with those of the

other girls. Naturally, they were afterwards

repacked, so that her trunk was

handed over exactly as it had arrived."

Poirot said: "Exactly?"

He strolled over to the wall.

"Surely this is a picture of the famous

Cranchester Bridge with the Cathedral

showing in the distance."

"You are quite right, M. Poirot. Winnie

had evidently painted that to bring to me as

a surprise. It was in her trunk with a

wrapper round it and 'For Miss Pope from

345

Winnie9 written on it. Very charming of

the child.53

"Ah!" said Poirot. "And what do you

think of it — as a painting ?"

He himself had seen many pictures of

Cranchester Bridge. It was a subject that

could always be found represented at the

Academy each year—sometimes as an

oil painting—sometimes in the watercolour

room. He had seen it painted well,

painted in a mediocre fashion, painted

boringly. But he had never seen it quite

as crudely represented as in the present

example.

Miss Pope was smiling indulgently.

She said:

"One must not discourage one's girls,

M. Poirot. Winnie will be stimulated to do

better work, of course."

Poirot said thoughtfully:

"It would have been more natural,

would it not, for her to do a watercolour

?"

"Yes.

I did not know she was attempting

to paint in oils.'5

"Ah," said Hercule Poirot. "You will

permit me. Mademoiselle ?"

He unhooked the picture and took it to

346

the window. He examined it, then, looking

up, he said:

"I am going to ask you. Mademoiselle,

to give me this picture."

"Well, really, M. Poirot --"