Fourteen
I
Mrs. Bantry was on her knees. A good day for hoeing. Nice dry soil. But
hoeing wouldn’t do everything. Thistles now, and dandelions. She dealt
vigorously with these pests.
She rose to her feet, breathless but
triumphant1, and looked out over the
hedge on to the road. She was faintly surprised to see the dark-haired sec-
retary whose name she couldn’t remember coming out of the public call
box that was
situated2 near the bus stop on the other side of the road.
What was her name now. It began with a B—or was it an R? No, Zielin-
sky, that was it. Mrs. Bantry remembered just in time, as Ella crossed the
road into the drive past the
Lodge3.
“Good morning, Miss Zielinsky,” she called in a friendly tone.
Ella Zielinsky jumped. It was not so much a jump, as a shy—the shy of a
frightened horse. It surprised Mrs. Bantry.
“Good morning,” said Ella, and added quickly: “I came down to tele-
phone. There’s something wrong with our line today.”
Mrs. Bantry felt more surprise. She wondered why Ella Zielinsky
bothered to explain her action. She responded civilly. “How annoying for
you. Do come in and telephone anytime you want to.”
“Oh—thank you very much…” Ella was interrupted by a fit of sneezing.
weak bicarbonate of
soda6 and water.”
“Oh, that’s all right. I have some very good patent stuff in an atomizer.
Thank you all the same.”
She sneezed again as she moved away, walking briskly up the drive.
Mrs. Bantry looked after her. Then her eyes returned to her garden. She
looked at it in a dissatisfied fashion. Not a weed to be seen anywhere.
“Othello’s occupation’s gone,” Mrs. Bantry murmured to herself con-
fusedly. “I dare say I’m a
nosy7 old woman but I would like to know if—”
A moment of
irresolution8 and then Mrs. Bantry yielded to temptation.
She was going to be a nosy old woman and the hell with it! She strode in-
doors to the telephone, lifted the receiver and dialled it. A brisk transat-
“Gossington Hall.”
“This is Mrs. Bantry, at the East Lodge.”
“Oh, good morning, Mrs. Bantry. This is Hailey Preston. I met you on the
day of the fête. What can I do for you?”
“I thought perhaps I could do something for you. If your telephone’s out
of order—”
His astonished voice interrupted her.
“Our telephone out of order? There’s been nothing wrong with it. Why
did you think so?”
“I must have made a mistake,” said Mrs. Bantry. “I don’t always hear
very well,” she explained unblushingly.
She put the receiver back, waited a minute, then dialled once more.
“Jane? Dolly here.”
“Yes, Dolly. What is it?”
“Well, it seems rather odd. The secretary woman was dialling from the
public call box in the road. She took the trouble to explain to me quite un-
necessarily that she was doing so because the line at Gossington Hall was
out of order. But I’ve rung up there, and it isn’t….”
She paused, and waited for intelligence to pronounce.
“Indeed,” said Miss Marple thoughtfully. “Interesting.”
“For what reason, do you think?”
“Well, clearly, she didn’t want to be overheard—”
“Exactly.”
“And there might be quite a number of reasons for that.”
“Yes.”
“Interesting,” said Miss Marple again.
分享到: