6 MISS MARPLE- Agatha Christie - short stories

ple seem to me not to be either bad or good, but simply you know, very silly." Mr. Petherick gave his dry little cough again. "Don't you think, Raymond," he said, "that you attach too much weight to imagination? Imagination is a very dangerous thing, as we lawyers know only too well. To be able to sift evidence impartially, to take the facts and look at them as facts--that seems to me the only logical method of arriving at the truth. I may add that in my experience it is the only one that succeeds." "Bah!" cried Joyce, flinging back her black head indignantly. "I bet I could beat you all at this game. I am not only a woman--and say what you like, women have an intuition that is denied to men--I am an artist as well. I see things that you don't. And then, too, as an artist I have knocked about among all sorts and conditions of people. I know life as darling Miss Marple here cannot possibly know it." "I don't know about that, dear," said Miss Marple. "Very painful and distressing things happen in villages sometimes." "May I speak?" said Dr. Pender smiling. "It is the fashion nowadays to decry the clergy, I know, but we hear things, we know a side of human character which is a sealed book to the outside world." "Well," said Joyce, "it seems to me we are a pretty representative gathering. How would it be if we formed a Club? What is today? Tuesday? We will call it The Tuesday Night Club. It is to meet every week, and each member in turn has to propound a problem. Some mystery of which they have personal knowledge, and to which, of course, they know the answer. Let me see, how many are we? One, two, three, four, five. We ought really to be six." "You have forgotten me, dear," said Miss Marple, smiling brightly.