“I wonder,” I said, breaking the silence, “what the papers the girl disarranged could have been for Ackroyd to have got into such a state about them? I wonder if there is any clue there to the mystery.”

“The secretary said there were no papers of particular importance on the desk,” said Poirot quietly.

“Yes, but⁠—” I paused.

“It strikes you as odd that Ackroyd should have flown into a rage about so trivial a matter?”

“Yes, it does rather.”

“But was it a trivial matter?”

“Of course,” I admitted, “we don’t know what those papers may have been. But Raymond certainly said⁠—”

“Leave M. Raymond out of it for a minute. What did you think of that girl?”