Giraud stared.

'Perhaps it was in the habit of gaining?'

'As a matter of fact, I am told it did.'

'Very well, then.'

'All the same, two hours is a good deal,' said Poirot softly. 'Then there is the matter of the footprints in the flowerbed.'

He nodded his head towards the open window. Giraud took two eager strides, and looked out.

'But I see no footprints?'

'No,' said Poirot, straightening a little pile of books on a table. 'There are none.'

For a moment an almost murderous rage obscured Giraud's face. He took two strides towards his tormentor, but at that moment the salon door was opened, and Marchaud announced:

'Monsieur Stonor, the secretary, has just arrived from England. May he enter?'