Free The Mystery of the Blue Train by Agatha Christie Page B

herself a little at the idea. She picked up the magazine again. Really she must control herself. After all she had thought all this out. She had decided of her own free will. What happiness had she ever had in her life up to now? She said to herself restlessly: “Why shouldn’t I be happy? No one will ever know.”
    It seemed no time before Dover was reached. Ruth was a good sailor. She disliked the cold, and was glad to reach the shelter of the private cabin she had telegraphed for. Although she would not have admitted the fact, Ruth was in some ways superstitious. She was of the order of people to whom coincidence appeals. After disembarking at Calais and settling herself down with her maid in her double compartment in the Blue Train, she went along to the luncheon car. It was with a little shock of surprise that she found herself set down to a small table with, opposite her, the same woman who had been her vis-à-vis in the Pullman. A faint smile came to the lips of both women.
    â€œThis is quite a coincidence,” said Mrs. Kettering.
    â€œI know,” said Katherine; “it is odd the way things happen.”
    A flying attendant shot up to them with the wonderful velocity always displayed by the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits and deposited two cups of soup. By the time the omelette succeeded the soup they were chatting together in friendly fashion.
    â€œIt will be heavenly to get into the sunshine,” sighed Ruth.
    â€œI am sure it will be a wonderful feeling.”
    â€œYou know the Riviera well?”
    â€œNo; this is my first visit.”
    â€œFancy that.”
    â€œYou go every year, I expect?”
    â€œPractically. January and February in London are horrible.”
    â€œI have always lived in the country. They are not very inspiring months there either. Mostly mud.”
    â€œWhat made you suddenly decide to travel?”
    â€œMoney,” said Katherine. “For ten years I have been a paid companion with just enough money of my own to buy myself strong country shoes; now I have been left what seems to me a fortune, though I daresay it would not seem so much to you.”
    â€œNow I wonder why you said that—that it would not seem so to me.”
    Katherine laughed. “I don’t really know. I suppose one forms impressions without thinking of it. I put you down in my own mind as one of the very rich of the earth. It was just an impression. I daresay I am wrong.”
    â€œNo,” said Ruth, “you are not wrong.” She had suddenly become very grave. “I wish you would tell me what other impressions you formed about me.”
    â€œI—”
    Ruth swept on, disregarding the other’s embarrassment. “Oh, please, don’t be conventional. I want to know. As we left Victoria I looked across at you, and I had the sort of feeling that you—well, understood what was going on in my mind.”
    â€œI can assure you I am not a mind reader,” said Katherine smiling.
    â€œNo, but will you tell me, please, just what you thought.” Ruth’s eagerness was so intense and so sincere that she carried her point.
    â€œI will tell you if you like, but you must not think me impertinent. I thought that for some reason you were in great distress of mind, and I was sorry for you.”
    â€œYou are right. You are quite right. I am in terrible trouble. I—I should like to tell you something about it, if I may.”
    â€œOh, dear,” Katherine thought to herself, “how extraordinarily alike the world seems to be everywhere! People were always telling me things in St. Mary Mead, and it is just the same thing here, and I don’t really want to hear anybody’s troubles!”
    She replied politely:
    â€œDo tell me.”
    They were just finishing their lunch. Ruth gulped down her coffee, rose from her seat, and quite oblivious of the fact that Katherine had not begun to sip her coffee, said: