She came to an abrupt stop. Poirot was regarding her intently, and he saw the wary look that came into her eyes.
“I have been told so. Everybody says so.”
“Oh,” said Poirot, “I was not aware that the fact had been mentioned outside the Examining Magistrate’s office.”
Mirelle appeared somewhat discomposed.
“One hears those things,” she said vaguely; “they get about. Somebody told me. I can’t remember who it was.”
She moved to the door. M. Caux sprang forward to open it for her, and as he did so, Poirot’s voice rose gently once more.
“And the jewels? Pardon, Mademoiselle. Can you tell me anything about those?”
“The jewels? What jewels?”
“The rubies of Catherine the Great. Since you hear so much, you must have heard of them.”
“I know nothing about any jewels,” said Mirelle sharply.
She went out, closing the door behind her. M. Caux came back to his chair; the Examining Magistrate sighed.
“What a fury!” he said, “but diablement chic . I wonder if she is telling the truth? I think so.”
“There is some truth in her story, certainly,” said Poirot. “We have confirmation of it from Miss Grey. She was looking down the corridor a short time before the train reached Lyons, and she saw M. Kettering go into his wife’s compartment.”