pects you. You go along and get on with your work."
The chambermaid went unwillingly.
"Going to search her?" she demanded, pointing at Célestine.
"Yes, yes!" He shut the door on her and turned the key.
Célestine accompanied the searcher into the small room in her turn. A few minutes later she also returned. Nothing had been found on her.
The inspector's face grew graver.
"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to come along with me all the same, miss." He turned to Mrs. Opalsen. "I'm sorry, madam, but all the evidence points that way. If she's not got them on her, they're hidden somewhere about the room."
Célestine uttered a piercing shriek, and clung to Poirot's arm. The latter bent and whispered something in the girl's ear. She looked up at him doubtfully.
"Si, si, mon enfant—I assure you it is better not to resist." Then he turned to the inspector. "You permit, monsieur? A little experiment— purely for my own satisfaction."
