Tuesday, August 3, 2010

22 MISS M A R PLE - Agatha Christie - short stories

"'Yes,' he said, 'it isit is queer, somehow. I know what you mean but I suppose it is only our imagination makes us feel like that. What do you say, Symonds?' "The doctor was silent a minute or two before he replied. Then he said quietly: "'I don't like it. I can't tell you why. But somehow or other, I don't like it.' "At that moment Violet Mannering came across to me. "'I hate this place,' she cried. 'I hate it. Do let's get out of it.' "We moved away and the others followed us. Only Diana Ashley lingered. I turned my head over my shoulder and saw her standing in front of the Idol House gazing earnestly at the image within it. "The day was an unusually hot and beautiful one and Diana Ashley's suggestion of a Fancy Dress party that evening was received with general favour. The usual laughing and whispering and frenzied secret sewing took place and when we all made our appearance for dinner there were the usual outcries of merriment. Rogers and his wife were Neolithic hut dwellersexplaining the sudden lack of hearth-rugs. Richard Haydon called himself a Phoenician sailor, and his cousin was a Brigand Chief, Dr. Symonds was a chef, Lady Mannering was a hospital nurse, and her daughter was a Circassian slave. I myself was arrayed somewhat too warmly as a monk. Diana Ashley came down last and was somewhat of a disappointment to all of us, being wrapped in a shapeless black domino. "'The Unknown,' she declared airily. 'That is what I am. Now for goodness' sake let's go in to dinner.' "After dinner we went outside. It was a lovely night. warm and soft, and the moon was rising. "We wandered about and chatted and the time passed quickly enough. It must have been an hour later when we realized that Diana Ashley was not with us.


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