Free And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie

group.
    “Conscience!” she said.
    Armstrong turned to her.
    “What exactly do you mean by that, Miss Brent?”
    Emily Brent, her lips tight and hard, said:
    “You all heard. She was accused, together with her husband, of having deliberately murdered her former employer—an old lady.”
    “And you think?”
    Emily Brent said:
    “I think that the accusation was true. You all saw her last night. She broke down completely and fainted. The shock of having her wickedness brought home to her was too much for her. She literally died of fear.”
    Dr. Armstrong shook his head doubtfully.
    “It is a possible theory,” he said. “One cannot adopt it withoutmore exact knowledge of her state of health. If there was cardiac weakness—”
    Emily Brent said quietly:
    “Call it if you prefer, an Act of God.”
    Everyone looked shocked. Mr. Blore said uneasily:
    “That’s carrying things a bit far, Miss Brent.”
    She looked at them with shining eyes. Her chin went up. She said:
    “You regard it as impossible that a sinner should be struck down by the wrath of God! I do not!”
    The judge stroked his chin. He murmured in a slightly ironic voice:
    “My dear lady, in my experience of ill-doing, Providence leaves the work of conviction and chastisement to us mortals—and the process is often fraught with difficulties. There are no short cuts.”
    Emily Brent shrugged her shoulders.
    Blore said sharply:
    “What did she have to eat and drink last night after she went up to bed?”
    Armstrong said:
    “Nothing.”
    “She didn’t take anything? A cup of tea? A drink of water? I’ll bet you she had a cup of tea. That sort always does.”
    “Rogers assures me she had nothing whatsoever.”
    “Ah,” said Blore. “But he might say so!”
    His tone was so significant that the doctor looked at him sharply.
    Philip Lombard said:
    “So that’s your idea?”
    Blore said aggressively:
    “Well, why not? We all heard that accusation last night. May be sheer moonshine—just plain lunacy! On the other hand, it may not. Allow for the moment that it’s true. Rogers and his Missus polished off that old lady. Well, where does that get you? They’ve been feeling quite safe and happy about it—”
    Vera interrupted. In a low voice she said:
    “No, I don’t think Mrs. Rogers ever felt safe.”
    Blore looked slightly annoyed at the interruption.
    “Just like a woman,” his glance said.
    He resumed:
    “That’s as may be. Anyway there’s no active danger to them as far as they know. Then, last night, some unknown lunatic spills the beans. What happens? The woman cracks—she goes to pieces. Notice how her husband hung over her as she was coming round. Not all husbandly solicitude! Not on your life! He was like a cat on hot bricks. Scared out of his life as to what she might say.
    “And there’s the position for you! They’ve done a murder and got away with it. But if the whole thing’s going to be raked up, what’s going to happen? Ten to one, the woman will give the show away. She hasn’t got the nerve to stand up and brazen it out. She’s a living danger to her husband, that’s what she is. He’s all right. He’ ll lie with a straight face till kingdom comes—but he can’t be sure of her! And if she goes to pieces, his neck’s in danger! So he slips something into a cup of tea and makes sure that her mouth is shut permanently.”
    Armstrong said slowly:
    “There was no empty cup by her bedside—there was nothing there at all. I looked.”
    Blore snorted.
    “Of course there wouldn’t be! First thing he’d do when she’d drunk it would be to take that cup and saucer away and wash it up carefully.”
    There was a pause. Then General Macarthur said doubtfully:
    “It may be so. But I should hardly think it possible that a man would do that—to his wife.”
    Blore gave a short laugh.
    He said:
    “When a man’s neck’s in danger, he doesn’t stop to think too much about sentiment.”
    There was a pause. Before any