and now she blurted out unexpectedly:

"And if there _was_ salt in it, sir, it wasn't me. I never took
the salt near it."

"What makes you think there was salt in it?" asked Poirot.

"Seeing it on the tray, sir."

"You saw some salt on the tray?"

"Yes. Coarse kitchen salt, it looked. I never noticed it when I
took the tray up, but when I came to take it into the mistress's
room I saw it at once, and I suppose I ought to have taken it
down again, and asked Cook to make some fresh. But I was in a
hurry, because Dorcas was out, and I thought maybe the coco
itself was all right, and the salt had only gone on the tray. So
I dusted it off with my apron, and took it in."

I had the utmost difficulty in controlling my excitement.
Unknown to herself, Annie had provided us with an important piece
of evidence. How she would have gaped if she had realized that
her "coarse kitchen salt" was strychnine, one of the most deadly
poisons known to mankind. I marvelled at Poirot's calm. His
self-control was astonishing. I awaited his next question with
impatience, but it disappointed me.

"When you went into Mrs. Inglethorp's room, was the door leading
into Miss Cynthia's room bolted?"