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- Агата Кристи
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“
Oh
,
you
,
”
I
replied
hastily
.
“
Very
well
,
then
.
One
,
a
coffee
-
cup
that
has
been
ground
into
powder
;
two
,
a
despatch
-
case
with
a
key
in
the
lock
;
three
,
a
stain
on
the
floor
.
”
“
That
may
have
been
done
some
time
ago
,
”
I
interrupted
.
“
No
,
for
it
is
still
perceptibly
damp
and
smells
of
coffee
.
Four
,
a
fragment
of
some
dark
green
fabric
—
only
a
thread
or
two
,
but
recognizable
.
”
“
Ah
!
”
I
cried
.
“
That
was
what
you
sealed
up
in
the
envelope
.
”
“
Yes
.
It
may
turn
out
to
be
a
piece
of
one
of
Mrs
.
Inglethorp
’
s
own
dresses
,
and
quite
unimportant
.
We
shall
see
.
Five
,
this
!
”
With
a
dramatic
gesture
,
he
pointed
to
a
large
splash
of
candle
grease
on
the
floor
by
the
writing
-
table
.
“
It
must
have
been
done
since
yesterday
,
otherwise
a
good
housemaid
would
have
at
once
removed
it
with
blotting
-
paper
and
a
hot
iron
.
One
of
my
best
hats
once
—
but
that
is
not
to
the
point
.
”
“
It
was
very
likely
done
last
night
.
We
were
very
agitated
.
Or
perhaps
Mrs
.
Inglethorp
herself
dropped
her
candle
.
”
“
You
brought
only
one
candle
into
the
room
?
”
“
Yes
.
Lawrence
Cavendish
was
carrying
it
.
But
he
was
very
upset
.
He
seemed
to
see
something
over
here
”
—
I
indicated
the
mantelpiece
—
“
that
absolutely
paralysed
him
.
”
