Free Towards Zero by Agatha Christie Page A

story, you know -”
    Mary Aldin said: “It's a very good description -”

Towards Zero
    V
    Mr. Treves sipped his glass of port appreciatively. A very nice wine. A very nice wine. And an excellently cooked and served dinner. Clearly Lady Tressilian had no difficulties with her servants.
    The house was well managed, too, in spite of the mistress of it being an invalid.
    A pity, perhaps, that the ladies did not leave the dining-room when the port went round. He preferred the old-fashioned routine - But these young people had their own ways.
    His eyes rested thoughtfully on that brilliant and beautiful young woman who was the wife of Nevile Strange.
    It was Kay's night to-night. Her vivid beauty glowed and shone in the candlelit room. Beside her, Ted Latimer's sleek dark head bent to hers. He was playing up to her. She felt triumphant and sure of herself.
    The mere sight of such radiant vitality warmed Mr. Treves' old bones. Youth - there was really nothing like youth!
    No wonder the husband had lost his head and left his first wife. Audrey was sitting next to him. A charming creature and a lady - but then that was the kind of woman who invariably did get left, in Mr. Treves' experience.
    He glanced at her. Her head was bent down and she was staring at her plate. Something in the complete immobility of her attitude struck Mr. Treves. He looked at her more keenly. He wondered what she was thinking about. Charming the way the hair sprang up from that small shell-like ear ...
    With a little start, Mr. Treves came to himself as he realised that a move was being made. He got hurriedly to his feet.
    In the drawing-room Kay Strange went straight to the gramophone and put on a record of dance music.
    Mary Aldin said apologetically to Mr. Treves: “I'm sure you hate jazz.” “Not at all,” said Mr. Treves, untruly but politely.
    “Later, perhaps, we might have some bridge?” she suggested. “But it is no good starting a rubber now, as I know Lady Tressilian is looking forward to having a chat with you.”
    “That will be delightful. Lady Tressilian never joins you down here?”
    “No, she used to come down in an invalid chair. That is why we had a lift put in. But nowadays she prefers her own room. There she can talk to whomsoever she likes, summoning them by a kind of Royal Command.”
    “Very aptly put. Miss Aldin. I am always sensible of the Royal touch in Lady Tressilian's manner.”
    In the middle of the room Kay was moving in a slow dance step.
    She said: “Just take that table out of the way, Nevile.”
    Her voice was autocratic, assured. Her eyes were shining, her lips parted.
    Nevile obediently moved the table. Then be took a step towards her, but she turned deliberately towards Ted Latimer.
    “Come on, Ted, let's dance.”
    Ted's arm went round her immediately. They danced, swaying, bending, their steps perfectly together. It was a lovely performance to watch.
    Mr. Treves murmured: '“Er - quite professional.”
    Mary Aldin winced slightly at the word - yet surely Mr. Treves had spoken in simple admiration. She looked at his little wise nut-cracker face. It bore, she thought, an absent-minded look, as though he were following some train of thought of his own.
    Nevile stood hesitating a moment, then he walked to where Audrey was standing by the window.
    “Dance, Audrey?”
    His tone was formal, almost cold. Mere politeness, you might have said, inspired his request. Audrey Strange hesitated a minute before nodding her head and taking a step towards him.
    Mary Aldin made some commonplace remarks, to which Mr. Treves did not reply. He had so far shown no signs of deafness and his courtesy was punctilious - she realised that it was absorption that held him aloof. She could not quite make out if he was watching the dancers, or was staring across the room at Thomas Royde, standing alone at the other end.
    With a little start Mr. Treves said: “Excuse me, my dear lady, you were saying?”
    “Nothing. Only that it was