“Will you pour out tea, Miss Brent?' The elder woman replied: 'No, you do it, dear. That tea-pot is so heavy. And I have lost two skeins of my grey knitting-wool. So annoying.' Vera moved to the tea-table. There was a cheerful rattle and clink of china. Normality returned. Tea! Blessed ordinary everyday afternoon tea! Philip Lombard made a cheery remark. Blore responded. Dr. Armstrong told a humorous story. Mr. Justice Wargrave, who ordinarily hated tea, sipped approvingly.
Into this relaxed atmosphere came Rogers. And Rogers was upset. He said nervously and at random: 'Excuse me, sir, but does any one know what's become of the bathroom curtain?'
Lombard's head went up with a jerk. 'The bathroom curtain? What the devil do you mean, Rogers?'
'It's gone, sir, clean vanished. I was going round drawing all the curtains and the one in the lav - bathroom wasn't there any longer.'
Mr. Justice Wargrave asked: 'Was it there this morning?'
'Oh, yes, sir.'
Blore said: 'What kind of a curtain was it?'
'Scarlet oilsilk, sir. It went with the scarlet tiles.'
Lombard said: 'And it's gone?'
They stared at each other.
Blore said heavily: 'Well - after all-what of it? It's mad - but so's everything else. Anyway, it doesn't matter. You can't kill anybody with an oilsilk curtain. Forget about it.'
Rogers said: 'Yes, sir, thank you, sir.' He went out, shutting the door.”