Miss Marple grimaced as the sunbeams fell on her sideboard, lighting up every single dust mote there was. It would need dusting, before the ladies from the parish sewing circle arrived, and it had only been done two days before. She’d given Ethel the morning off to take her mother to a hospital appointment, which was unfortunate, but couldn’t be helped. Dear Griselda had said she’d arrive early to help with the coffee, Miss Marple no longer trusting herself with the tray, so perhaps Griselda could run a duster round as well. Or maybe she wouldn’t worry about the gossip.

Later, when they were chatting over the coffee, one of the ladies mentioned having dropped her thimble and how it had taken them at least half an hour to find it again. It reminded Miss Marple of last week, when she had dropped her own thimble, and Ethel had used the torch to search under the sofa. At the same time, she’d found two pencils and a wrapped toffee, which must have been there for some time. It was amazing, Miss Marple reflected, on what turns up when one isn’t looking for it, suddenly appearing when it was least expected.

After the ladies had left, Miss Marple gave, not a beaming smile, she didn’t beam, but a small smile, and her eyes twinkled. Griselda noticed and asked her what she had discovered. So she explained about appearances and finding one thing while looking for another. And specifically how Miles Champion had, to all appearances, been searching for a misplaced hat, when in truth he was retrieving a parcel, in which was his sister-in-law’s stolen necklace, hidden a few days earlier. She was looking forward to explaining to Inspector Slack that her suspicions of Champion were not without foundation after all.