low window seats were covered with the same faded chintz of an old-fashioned pattern.
"Eh bien, mon ami," said Poirot, lighting one of his tiny cigarettes, "we must map out our plan of campaign. Already I have made a rough survey of the house, but I am of opinion that any clue will be found in this room. We shall have to go through the documents in the desk with meticulous care. Naturally, I do not expect to find the will amongst them; but it is likely that some apparently innocent paper may conceal the clue to its hiding-place. But first we must have a little information. Ring the bell, I pray of you."
I did so. While we were waiting for it to be answered, Poirot walked up and down, looking about him approvingly.
"A man of method this Mr. Marsh. See how neatly the packets of papers are docketed; then the key to each drawer has its ivory label—so has the key of the china cabinet on the wall; and see with what precision the china within is arranged. It rejoices the heart. Nothing here offends the eye———"
He came to an abrupt pause, as his eye was caught by the key of the desk itself, to which a
