how I only saw his back, it's hard to say. I rather think it was the gentleman."
"But you are not sure?"
"No—o," said Mason unwillingly; "n—no, I am not sure."
"You have seen this gentleman before in Curzon Street?"
Mason shook her head.
"I should not be likely to see any visitors that come to Curzon Street," she explained, "unless they were staying in the house."
"Very well, that will do," said the Examining Magistrate sharply.
Evidently he was disappointed.
"One moment," said Poirot. "There is a question I would like to put to Mademoiselle, if I may?"
"Certainly, M. Poirot—certainly, by all means."
Poirot addressed himself to the maid.
"What happened to the tickets?"
"The tickets, sir?"
"Yes; the tickets from London to Nice. Did you or your mistress have them?"
"The mistress had her own Pullman ticket, sir; the others were in my charge."
"What happened to them?"
"I gave them to the conductor on the French train, sir; he said it was usual. I hope I did right, sir?"
"Oh, quite right, quite right. A mere matter of detail."
Both M. Caux and the Examining Magistrate looked at him curiously. Mason stood uncertainly for a minute or two, and then the Magistrate gave her a
