rather too much given to these fantastic ideas. In this case,
surely, the truth was only too plain and apparent.

"So that is the explanation of the blank label on the box," I
remarked. "Very simple, as you said. I really wonder that I did
not think of it myself."

Poirot did not appear to be listening to me.

"They have made one more discovery, la-bas," he observed, jerking
his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Styles. "Mr.
Wells told me as we were going upstairs."

"What was it?"

"Locked up in the desk in the boudoir, they found a will of Mrs.
Inglethorp's, dated before her marriage, leaving her fortune to
Alfred Inglethorp. It must have been made just at the time they
were engaged. It came quite as a surprise to Wells--and to John
Cavendish also. It was written on one of those printed will
forms, and witnessed by two of the servants--not Dorcas."

"Did Mr. Inglethorp know of it?"

"He says not."

"One might take that with a grain of salt," I remarked
sceptically. "All these wills are very confusing. Tell me, how
did those scribbled words on the envelope help you to discover
that a will was made yesterday afternoon?"