occupants, both busy with some experiment. Madame Olivier introduced them.
“Mademoiselle Claude, one of my assistants.” A tall, serious-faced young girl bowed to us. “Monsieur Henri, an old and trusted friend.”
The young man, short and dark, bowed jerkily.
Poirot looked round him. There were two other doors besides the one by which we had entered. One, madame explained, led into the garden, the other into a smaller chamber also devoted to research. Poirot took all this in, then declared himself ready to return to the salon.
“Madame, were you alone with M. Halliday during your interview?”
“Yes, monsieur. My two assistants were in the smaller room next door.”
“Could your conversation be overheard—by them or anyone else?”
Madame reflected, then shook her head.
“I do not think so. I am almost sure it could not. The doors were all shut.”
“Could anyone have been concealed in the room?”
“There is the big cupboard in the corner—but the idea is absurd.”
“ Pas tout à fait , madame. One thing more: did M. Halliday make any mention of his plans for the evening?”
“He said nothing whatever, monsieur.”
“I thank you, madame, and I apologize for disturbing you. Pray do not trouble—we can find our way out.”