Free Towards Zero by Agatha Christie Page B

an unusually fine September.”
    “Yes, indeed - rain is badly needed locally, so they tell me at my hotel.”
    “You are comfortable there, I hope?”
    “Oh, yes, though I must say I was vexed when I arrived to find -”
    Mr. Treves broke off.
    Audrey had disengaged herself from Nevile. She said with an apologetic little laugh: “It's really too hot to dance.”
    She went towards the open window and out on to the terrace.
    “Oh! Go after her, you fool,” murmured Mary. She meant the remark to be under her breath, but it was loud enough for Mr. Treves to turn and stare at her in astonishment.
    She reddened and gave an embarrassed laugh. “I'm speaking my thoughts aloud,” she said ruefully. “But really he does irritate me so. He's so slow.” “Mr. Strange?” “Oh, no, not Nevile. Thomas Royde.”
    Thomas Royde was just preparing to move forward, but by now Nevile, after a moment's pause, had followed Audrey out of the window.
    For a moment Mr. Treves' eye, interestedly speculative, rested on the window, then his attention returned to the dancers.
    “A beautiful dancer, young Mr. - Latimer, did you say the name was?”
    “Yes. Edward Latimer.”
    “Ah, yes, Edward Latimer. An old friend, I gather, of Mrs. Strange?”
    “Yes.”
    “And what does this very - er - decorative young gentleman do for a living?”
    “Well, really, I don't quite know.'”
    “In-deed, ”said Mr. Treves, managing to put a good deal of comprehension into one harmless word.
    Mary went on: “He is staying at the Easterhead Bay Hotel.” “A very pleasant situation,” said Mr. Treves.
    He added dreamily after a moment or two: “Rather as interesting shaped head -a curious angle from the crown to the neck - rendered less noticeable by the way he has his hair cut, but distinctly unusual.” After another pause, he went on still more dreamily: “The last man I saw with a head like that got ten years' penal servitude for a brutal attack on an elderly jeweller.”
    “Surely,” exclaimed Mary, “you don't mean -”
    “Not at all, not at all,” said Mr. Treves. “You mistake me entirely. I am suggesting no disparagement of a guest of yours. I was merely pointing out that a hardened and brutal criminal can be in appearance a most charming and personable young man. Odd, but so it is.”
    He smiled gently at her. Mary said: “You know, Mr. Treves, I think I am a little frightened of you.”
    “Nonsense, dear lady.”
    “But I am. You are - such a very shrewd observer.”
    “My eyes,” said Mr. Treves complacently, “are as good as ever they were.” He paused and added: “Whether that is fortunate or unfortunate, I cannot at the moment decide.”
    “How could it be unfortunate?”
    Mr. Treves shook his head doubtfully.
    “One is sometimes placed in a position of responsibility. The right course of action is not always easy to determine.”
    Hurstall entered bearing the coffee tray.
    After taking it to Mary and the old lawyer, he went down the room to Thomas Royde. Then, by Mary's directions, he put the tray on a low table and left the room.
    Kay called over Ted's shoulder: “We'll finish out this tune.” Mary said: “I'll take Audrey's out to her.”
    She went to the trench windows, cup in hand. Mr. Treves accompanied her. As she paused on the threshold he looked out over her shoulder.
    Audrey was sitting on the corner of the balustrade. In the bright moonlight her beauty came to life - a beauty born of line rather than colour. The exquisite line from the jaw to the ear, the tender modelling of chin and mouth, and the really lovely bones of the head and the small straight nose. That beauty would be there when Audrey Strange was an old woman - it had nothing to do with the covering flesh - it was the bones themselves that were beautiful. The sequinned dress she wore accentuated the effect of the moonlight. She sat very still and Nevile Strange stood and looked at her.
    Nevile took a step towards her. “Audrey,” he said,