"What?"
"The maid was left behind in Paris."
He turned to Poirot.
"I should like you to hear the conductor's story yourself," he murmured confidentially. "It is very suggestive."
"Mademoiselle would doubtless like to hear it also," said Poirot. "You do not object, Monsieur le Commissaire?"
"No," said the Commissary, who clearly did object very much. "No, certainly, M. Poirot, if you say so. You have finished here?"
"I think so. One little minute."
He had been turning over the rugs, and now he took one to the window and looked at it, picking something off it with his fingers.
"What is it?" demanded M. Caux sharply.
"Four auburn hairs." He bent over the dead woman. "Yes, they are from the head of Madame."