Free Towards Zero by Agatha Christie Page A

in good stead now,” said Lady Tressilian.
    She met his glance clearly and deliberately.
    â€œFidelity,” she said, “is a quality that anyone who has beenthrough Audrey’s experience might appreciate. The doglike devotion of a lifetime, Thomas, does sometimes get its reward.”
    Thomas Royde looked down, his fingers fumbling with a pipe.
    â€œThat,” he said, “is what I came home hoping.”
    IV
    â€œSo here we all are,” said Mary Aldin.
    Hurstall, the old butler, wiped his forehead. When he went into the kitchen, Mrs. Spicer, the cook, remarked upon his expression.
    â€œI don’t think I can be well, and that’s the truth,” said Hurstall. “If I can so express myself, everything that’s said and done in this house lately seems to me to mean something that’s different from what it sounds like—if you know what I mean?”
    Mrs. Spicer did not seem to know what he meant, so Hurstall went on:
    â€œMiss Aldin, now, as they all sat down to dinner—she says ‘So here we all are’ —and just that gave me a turn! Made me think of a trainer who’s got a lot of wild animals into a cage, and then the cage door shuts. I felt, all of a sudden, as though we were all caught in a trap.”
    â€œLaw, Mr. Hurstall,” said Mrs. Spicer, “you must have eaten something that’s disagreed.”
    â€œIt’s not my digestion. It’s the way everyone’s strung up. The front door banged just now and Mrs. Strange—our Mrs. Strange, Miss Audrey—she jumped as though she had been shot. And there’s the silences, too. Very queer they are. It’s as though, all of a sudden, everybody’s afraid to speak. And then they all break out at once just saying the things that first come into their heads.”
    â€œEnough to make anyone embarrassed,” said Mrs. Spicer.
    â€œTwo Mrs. Stranges in the house. What I feel is, it isn’t decent. ”
    In the dining room, one of those silences that Hurstall had described was proceeding.
    It was with quite an effort that Mary Aldin turned to Kay and said:
    â€œI asked your friend, Mr. Latimer, to dine tomorrow night!”
    â€œOh good,” said Kay.
    Nevile said:
    â€œLatimer? Is he down here?”
    â€œHe’s staying at the Easterhead Bay Hotel,” said Kay.
    Nevile said:
    â€œWe might go over and dine there one night. How late does the ferry go?”
    â€œUntil half past one,” said Mary.
    â€œI suppose they dance there in the evenings?”
    â€œMost of the people are about a hundred,” said Kay.
    â€œNot very amusing for your friend,” said Nevile to Kay.
    Mary said quickly:
    â€œWe might go over and bathe one day at Easterhead Bay. It’s quite warm still and it’s a lovely sandy beach.”
    Thomas Royde said in a low voice to Audrey:
    â€œI thought of going out sailing tomorrow. Will you come?”
    â€œI’d like to.”
    â€œWe might all go sailing,” said Nevile.
    â€œI thought you said you were going to play golf,” said Kay.
    â€œI did think of going over to the links. I was right off my wooden shots the other day.”
    â€œWhat a tragedy!” said Kay.
    Nevile said good-humouredly:
    â€œGolf’s a tragic game.”
    Mary asked Kay if she played.
    â€œYes—after a fashion.”
    Nevile said:
    â€œKay would be very good if she took a little trouble. She’s got a natural swing.”
    Kay said to Audrey:
    â€œYou don’t play any games, do you?”
    â€œNot really. I play tennis after a fashion—but I’m a complete rabbit.”
    â€œDo you still play the piano, Audrey?” asked Thomas.
    She shook her head.
    â€œNot nowadays.”
    â€œYou used to play rather well,” said Nevile.
    â€œI thought you didn’t like music, Nevile,” said Kay.
    â€œI don’t know much about it,” said Nevile vaguely. “I always