"We do not know. He was not remarked leaving the hotel. But no petit déjeuner was served to him, which seems to indicate that he went out early."
"Or he might, in fact, have gone out again after he came in the night before?"
"I do not think so. His bed had been slept in, and the night porter would have remembered any one going out at that hour."
"A very just observation, madame. We may take it, then, that he left early on the following morning—and that is reassuring from one point of view. He is not likely to have fallen a victim to any Apache assault at that hour. His baggage, now, was it all left behind?"
Mrs. Halliday seemed rather reluctant to answer, but at last she said:—-
"No—he must have taken one small suit-case with him."
"H'm," said Poirot thoughtfully, "I wonder where he was that evening. If we knew that, we should know a great deal. Whom did he meet?—there lies the mystery. Madame, myself I do not of necessity accept the view of the police; with them is it always 'Cherchez la femme.' Yet it is clear that something occurred that night to alter your husband's plans. You say he asked for letters on returning to the hotel. Did he receive any?"
"One only, and that must have been the one I wrote him on the day he left England."
Poirot remained sunk in thought for a full minute, then he rose briskly to his feet.
"Well, madame, the solution of the mystery lies in Paris, and to find it I myself journey to Paris on the instant."