“Look!”

The chest was nearly empty, and there, reposing right at the bottom, was a magnificent black beard.

“Oho!” said Poirot. “Oho!” He turned it over in his hands, examining it closely. “New,” he remarked. “Yes, quite new.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he replaced it in the chest, heaped all the other things on top of it as before, and made his way briskly downstairs. He went straight to the pantry, where we found Dorcas busily polishing her silver.

Poirot wished her good morning with Gallic politeness, and went on:

“We have been looking through that chest, Dorcas. I am much obliged to you for mentioning it. There is, indeed, a fine collection there. Are they often used, may I ask?”