Agatha Christie - Murder is Easy

"I'm afraid you don't like me very much, Luke, however great your passion for me."

"I don't think I like you at all."

Bridget said, watching him, "You meant to get married and settle down when you came home, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"But not to someone like me?"

"I never thought of anyone in the least like you."

"No, you wouldn't. I know your type. I know it exactly."

"You are so clever, dear Bridget."

"A really nice girl, thoroughly English, fond of the country and good with dogs. You probably visualized her in a tweed skirt, stirring a log fire with the tip of her shoe."

"The picture sounds most attractive."

"I'm sure it does. Shall we return to the tennis court? You can play with Rose Humbleby. She's so good that you're practically certain to win."

"Being old-fashioned, I must allow you to have the last word."

Again there was a pause. Then Luke took his hands slowly from her shoulders. They both stood uncertain, as though something still unsaid lingered between them.

Then Bridget turned abruptly and led the way back. The next set was just ending.

Rose protested against playing again. "I've played two sets running."

Bridget, however, insisted. "I'm feeling tired. I don't want to play. You and Mr. Fitzwilliam take on Miss Jones and Major Horton."

But Rose continued to protest, and in the end a men's four was arranged. Afterward came tea.

Lord Easterfield conversed with Doctor Thomas, describing at length and with great self-importance a visit he had recently paid to the Wellerman Kreitz Research Laboratories.

"I wanted to understand the trend of the latest scientific discoveries for myself," he explained earnestly. "I'm responsible for what my papers print. I feel that very keenly. This is a scientific age. Science must be made easily assimilable by the masses."

"A little science might possibly be a dangerous thing," said Doctor Thomas, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"Science in the home — that's what we have to aim at," said Lord Easterfield. "Science-minded –"

"Test-tube conscious," said Bridget gravely.

"I was impressed," said Lord Easterfield. "Wellerman took me round himself, of course. I begged him to leave me to an underling, but he insisted."

"Naturally," said Luke.

Lord Easterfield looked gratified. "And he explained everything most clearly — the cultures, the serum, the whole principle of the thing. He agreed to contribute the first article in the series himself."

Mrs. Anstruther murmured, "They use guinea pigs, I believe. So cruel — though, of course, not so bad as dogs, or even cats."

"Fellows who use dogs ought to be shot," said Major Horton hoarsely.

"I really believe, Horton," said Mr. Abbot, "that you value canine life above human life."

"Every time!" said the Major. "Dogs can't turn round on you like human beings can. Never get a nasty word from a dog."

"Only a nasty tooth stuck into your leg," said Mr. Abbot. "What about that, eh, Horton?"

"Dogs are a good judge of character," said Major Horton.

"One of your brutes nearly pinned me by the leg last week. What do you say to that, Horton?"

"Same as I said just now!"

Bridget interposed tactfully, "What about some more tennis?"

A couple more sets were played. Then, as Rose Humbleby said good-bye, Luke appeared beside her. "I'll see you home," he said. "And carry the tennis racket. You haven't got a car, have you?"

"No, but it's no distance."

"I'd like a walk." He said no more, merely taking her racket and shoes from her. They walked down the drive without speaking. Then Rose mentioned one or two trivial matters. Luke answered rather shortly, but the girl did not seem to notice.

As they turned into the gate of her house, Luke's face cleared. "I'm feeling better now," he said.

"Were you feeling badly before?"

"Nice of you to pretend you didn't notice it. You've exorcised the brute's sulky temper, though. Funny, I feel as though I'd come out of a dark cloud into the sun."

"So you have. There was a cloud over the sun when we left the Manor, and now it's passed over."

"So it has, literally as well as figuratively. Well, well, the world's a good place, after all."

"Of course it is."

"Miss Humbleby, may I be impertinent?"

"I'm sure you couldn't be."

"Oh, don't be too sure of that. I wanted to say that I think Doctor Thomas is a very lucky man." Rose blushed and smiled. "So it is true. You and he are engaged?"

Rose nodded. "Only, just now we're not announcing it officially. You see, Daddy was against it, and it seems — well, unkind to — to blazon it abroad the moment he's dead."

"Your father disapproved?"

Rose bent her head slowly and reluctantly.

"Yes, I'm afraid what it really amounted to was that Daddy didn't — well, didn't really like Geoffrey."

"They were antagonistic to each other?"

"It seemed like that sometimes. Of course, Daddy was rather a prejudiced old dear."

"And I suppose he was very fond of you and didn't like the thought of losing you?"

Rose assented, but still with a shade of reservation in her manner.

"It went deeper than that?" asked Luke. "He definitely didn't want Thomas as a husband for you?"

"No. You see. Daddy and Geoffrey are so very unlike and in some ways they clashed. Geoffrey was really very patient and good about it, but knowing Daddy didn't like him made him even more reserved and shy in his manner, so that Daddy really never got to know him any better."

"Prejudices are very hard to combat," said Luke.

"It was so completely unreasonable!"

"Your father didn't advance any reasons?"

"Oh, no. He couldn't! Naturally, I mean, there wasn't anything he could say against Geoffrey except that he didn't like him."

"I do not love thee, Doctor Fell;

"The reason why I cannot tell."

"Exactly."

"No tangible thing to get hold of? I mean, your Geoffrey doesn't drink or back horses?"

"Oh, no. I don't believe Geoffrey even knows what won the Derby ."

"That's funny," said Luke. "You know, I could swear I saw your Doctor Thomas at Epsom on Derby Day."

For a moment he was anxious lest he might already have mentioned that he only arrived in England on that day. But Rose responded at once, quite unsuspiciously.

"You thought you saw Geoffrey at the Derby ? Oh, no. He couldn't get away, for one thing. He was over at Ashewold nearly all that day at a difficult confinement case."

"What a memory you've got!"

Rose laughed. "I remember that because he told me they called the baby Jujube as a nickname!" Luke nodded abstractedly.

"Anyway," said Rose, "Geoffrey never goes to race meetings. He'd be bored to death."

She added, in a different tone, "Won't you come in? I think Mother would like to see you."

"If you're sure of that?"

Rose led the way into a room where twilight hung rather sadly. A woman was sitting in an armchair in a curiously huddled-up position. "Mother, this is Mr. Fitzwilliam."

Mrs. Humbleby gave a start and shook hands. Rose went quietly out of the room.

"I'm glad to see you, Mr. Fitzwilliam. Some friends of yours knew my husband many years ago, so Rose tells me."

"Yes, Mrs. Humbleby." He rather hated repeating the lie to the widowed woman, but there was no way out of it.

Mrs. Humbleby said, "I wish you could have met him. He was a fine man and a great doctor. He cured many people who had been given up as hopeless, just by the strength of his personality."

Luke said gently, "I've heard a lot about him since I've been here. I know how much people thought of him."

He could not see Mrs. Humbleby's face very distinctly. Her voice was rather monotonous, but its very lack of feeling seemed to emphasize the fact that actually feeling was in her, strenuously held back. She said, rather unexpectedly, "The world is a very wicked place, Mr. Fitzwilliam. Do you know that?"