“No. Why would she? That’s silly! I stood at the door and said goodbye to her, and she was not holding anything apart from her house key. Besides, Nancy isn’t a thief. Dorcas, on the other hand . . . That will be it! She hasn’t broken it, she has stolen it, I’m sure—but how can I prove it? She’s bound to deny it.”

“Madame, do me one favor: do not accuse Dorcas of stealing or of anything else. I do not think she is guilty.”

“Well, then where is my blue jug and bowl?”

“This is what I must think about,” said Poirot. “I will leave you in peace in a moment, but first may I take a last look at Nancy Ducane’s remarkable portrait of you?”

“Yes, with pleasure.”

Together, Louisa Wallace and Hercule Poirot made their way back down to the drawing room. They stood in front of the painting. “Dratted girl,” muttered Louisa. “All I can see when I look at it now is the blue jug and bowl.”

“Oui. It stands out, does it not?”

“It used to be in my house, and now it isn’t, and all I can do is stare at a picture of it and wonder what became of it! Oh, dear, what an upsetting day this has turned out to be!”

BLANCHE UNSWORTH, AS WAS her custom, asked Poirot the moment he returned to the lodging house if there was anything she could get for him.

“Indeed there is,” he told her. “I should like a piece of paper and some pencils to draw with. Colored pencils.”

Blanche’s face fell. “I can bring you paper, but as for colored pencils, I can’t say as I’ve got any, unless you’re interested in the color of ordinary pencil lead.”

“Ah! Gray: the best of all.”

“Are you having me on, Mr. Poirot? Gray?”

“Oui.” Poirot tapped the side of his head. “The color of the little gray cells.”

“Oh, no. Give me a nice soft pink or lilac any day of the week.”

“Colors do not matter—a green dress, a blue jug and bowl set, a white one.”

“I’m not following you, Mr. Poirot.”

“I do not ask you to follow me, Mrs. Unsworth—only to bring me one of your ordinary pencils and a piece of paper, quickly. And an envelope. I have been talking at great length about art today. Hercule Poirot will attempt now to compose his own work of art!”