复仇女神9
时间：2026-01-29 07:00:14
（单词翻译:单击）
V
“Sleep well?” asked Cherry, as she put down an early morning tea tray on
the table at Miss Marple’s elbow.
“I had a curious dream,” said Miss Marple.
“Nightmare?”
“No, no, nothing of that kind. I was talking to someone, not anyone I
knew very well. Just talking. Then when I looked, I saw it wasn’t that per-
son at all I was talking to. It was somebody else. Very odd.”
“Bit of a mix up,” said Cherry, helpfully.
“It just reminded me of something,” said Miss Marple, “or rather of
someone I once knew. Order Inch for me, will you? To come here about
half past eleven.”
Inch was part of Miss Marple’s past. Originally the proprietor of a cab,
Mr. Inch had died, been succeeded by his son “Young Inch,” then aged
forty-four, who had turned the family business into a garage and acquired
two aged cars. On his decease the garage acquired a new owner. There
had been since then Pip’s Cars, James’s Taxis and Arthur’s Car Hire—old
inhabitants still spoke of Inch.
“Not going to London, are you?”
“No, I’m not going to London. I shall have lunch perhaps in Haslemere.”
“Now what are you up to now?” said Cherry, looking at her suspiciously.
“Endeavouring to meet someone by accident and make it seem purely
natural,” said Miss Marple. “Not really very easy, but I hope that I can
manage it.”
At half past eleven the taxi waited. Miss Marple instructed Cherry.
“Ring up this number, will you, Cherry? Ask if Mrs. Anderson is at
home. If Mrs. Anderson answers or if she is going to come to the tele-
phone, say a Mr. Broadribb wants to speak to her. You,” said Miss Marple,
“are Mr. Broadribb’s secretary. If she’s out, find out what time she will be
in.”
“And if she is in and I get her?”
“Ask what day she could arrange to meet Mr. Broadribb at his office in
London next week. When she tells you, make a note of it and ring off.”
“The things you think of! Why all this? Why do you want me to do it?”
“Memory is a curious thing,” said Miss Marple. “Sometimes one remem-
bers a voice even if one hasn’t heard it for over a year.”
“Well, Mrs. What’s- a- name won’t have heard mine at any time, will
she?”
“No,” said Miss Marple. “That is why you are making the call.”
Cherry fulfilled her instruction. Mrs. Anderson was out shopping, she
learned, but would be in for lunch and all the afternoon.
“Well, that makes things easier,” said Miss Marple. “Is Inch here? Ah
yes. Good morning, Edward,” she said, to the present driver of Arthur’s
taxis whose actual name was George. “Now this is where I want you to go.
It ought not to take, I think, more than an hour and a half.”
The expedition set off.
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