Free Sad Cypress by Agatha Christie

tidy little sum, too.”
    Mary said:
    â€œOh, well, there’s no hurry….”
    â€œThere you go,” said Nurse Hopkins drily. “Just like everyone else. Because you’re a healthy young girl isn’t a reason why you shouldn’t be smashed up in a charabanc or a bus, or run over in the street any minute.”
    Mary laughed. She said:
    â€œI don’t even know how to make a will.”
    â€œEasy enough. You can get a form at the post office. Let’s go and get one right away.”
    In Nurse Hopkins’ cottage, the form was spread out and the important matter discussed. Nurse Hopkins was enjoying herself thoroughly. A will, as she said, was next best to a death, in her opinion.
    Mary said:
    â€œWho’d get the money if I didn’t make a will?”
    Nurse Hopkins said rather doubtfully:
    â€œYour father, I suppose.”
    Mary said sharply:
    â€œHe shan’t have it. I’d rather leave it to my auntie in New Zealand.”
    Nurse Hopkins said cheerfully:
    â€œIt wouldn’t be much use leaving it to your father, anyway— he’s not long for this world, I should say.”
    Mary had heard Nurse Hopkins make this kind of pronouncement too often to be impressed by it.
    â€œI can’t remember my auntie’s address. We’ve not heard from her for years.”
    â€œI don’t suppose that matters,” said Nurse Hopkins. “You know her Christian name?”
    â€œMary. Mary Riley.”
    â€œThat’s all right. Put down you leave everything to Mary Riley, sister of the late Eliza Gerrard of Hunterbury, Maidensford.”
    Mary bent over the form, writing. As she came to the end she shivered suddenly. A shadow had come between her and the sun. She looked up to see Elinor Carlisle standing outside the window looking in. Elinor said:
    â€œWhat are you doing so busily?”
    Nurse Hopkins said with a laugh:
    â€œShe’s making her will, that’s what she’s doing.”
    â€œMaking her will?” Suddenly Elinor laughed—a strange laugh—almost hysterical.
    She said:
    â€œSo you’re making your will, Mary. That’s funny. That’s very funny ….”
    Still laughing, she turned away and walked rapidly along the street.
    Nurse Hopkins stared.
    â€œDid you ever? What’s come to her?”
    V
    Elinor had not taken more than half a dozen steps—she was still laughing—when a hand fell on her arm from behind. She stopped abruptly and turned.
    Dr. Lord looked straight at her, his brow creased into a frown.
    He said peremptorily:
    â€œWhat were you laughing at?”
    Elinor said:
    â€œReally—I don’t know.”
    Peter Lord said:
    â€œThat’s rather a silly answer!”
    Elinor flushed. She said:
    â€œI think I must be nervous—or something. I looked in at the District Nurse’s cottage and—and Mary Gerrard was writing out her will. It made me laugh; I don’t know why!”
    Lord said abruptly:
    â€œ Don’t you? ”
    Elinor said:
    â€œIt was silly of me—I tell you—I’m nervous.”
    Peter Lord said:
    â€œI’ll write you out a tonic.”
    Elinor said incisively:
    â€œHow useful!”
    He grinned disarmingly.
    â€œQuite useless, I agree. But it’s the only thing one can do when people won’t tell one what is the matter with them!”
    Elinor said:
    â€œThere’s nothing the matter with me.”
    Peter Lord said calmly:
    â€œThere’s quite a lot the matter with you.”
    Elinor said:
    â€œI’ve had a certain amount of nervous strain, I suppose….”
    He said:
    â€œI expect you’ve had quite a lot. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” He paused. “Are you—are you staying down here much longer?”
    â€œI’m leaving tomorrow.”
    â€œYou won’t—live down here?”
    Elinor shook her head.
    â€œNo—never. I think—I