Reading Help The Mysterious Affair at Styles Ch.VII-XIII
I trembled. `
` `
` "Look here," I said, "I may be altogether wrong. And, remember, `
` all this is in confidence." `
` `
` "Oh, of course--that goes without saying." `
` `
` We had walked, as we talked, and now we passed through the little `
` gate into the garden. Voices rose near at hand, for tea was `
` spread out under the sycamore-tree, as it had been on the day of `
` my arrival. `
` `
` Cynthia was back from the hospital, and I placed my chair beside `
` her, and told her of Poirot's wish to visit the dispensary. `
` `
` "Of course! I'd love him to see it. He'd better come to tea `
` there one day. I must fix it up with him. He's such a dear `
` little man! But he _is_ funny. He made me take the brooch out of `
` my tie the other day, and put it in again, because he said it `
` wasn't straight." `
` `
` I laughed. `
` `
` "It's quite a mania with him." `
` `
` "Yes, isn't it?" `
` `
` We were silent for a minute or two, and then, glancing in the `
` direction of Mary Cavendish, and dropping her voice, Cynthia `
` said: `
` `
` "Mr. Hastings." `
` `
` "Yes?" `
` `
` "After tea, I want to talk to you." `
` `
` Her glance at Mary had set me thinking. I fancied that between `
` these two there existed very little sympathy. For the first `
` time, it occurred to me to wonder about the girl's future. Mrs. `
` Inglethorp had made no provisions of any kind for her, but I `
` imagined that John and Mary would probably insist on her making `
` her home with them--at any rate until the end of the war. John, `
` I knew, was very fond of her, and would be sorry to let her go. `
` `
` John, who had gone into the house, now reappeared. His `
` good-natured face wore an unaccustomed frown of anger. `
` `
` "Confound those detectives! I can't think what they're after! `
` They've been in every room in the house--turning things inside `
` out, and upside down. It really is too bad! I suppose they took `
` advantage of our all being out. I shall go for that fellow Japp, `
` when I next see him!" `
` `
` "Lot of Paul Prys," grunted Miss Howard. `
` `
` Lawrence opined that they had to make a show of doing something. `
` `
` Mary Cavendish said nothing. `
` `
` After tea, I invited Cynthia to come for a walk, and we sauntered `
` off into the woods together. `
` `
` "Well?" I inquired, as soon as we were protected from prying eyes `
` by the leafy screen. `
` `
` With a sigh, Cynthia flung herself down, and tossed off her hat. `
` The sunlight, piercing through the branches, turned the auburn of `
` her hair to quivering gold. `
` `
` "Mr. Hastings--you are always so kind, and you know such a lot." `
` `
` It struck me at this moment that Cynthia was really a very `
` charming girl! Much more charming than Mary, who never said `
` things of that kind. `
` `
` "Well?" I asked benignantly, as she hesitated. `
` `
` "I want to ask your advice. What shall I do?" `
` `
` "Do?" `
` `
` "Yes. You see, Aunt Emily always told me I should be provided `
` for. I suppose she forgot, or didn't think she was likely to `
` die--anyway, I am _not_ provided for! And I don't know what to do. `
` Do you think I ought to go away from here at once?" `
` `
` "Good heavens, no! They don't want to part with you, I'm sure." `
` `
` Cynthia hesitated a moment, plucking up the grass with her tiny `
` hands. Then she said: "Mrs. Cavendish does. She hates me." `
` `
` "Hates you?" I cried, astonished. `
` `
` Cynthia nodded. `
` `
` "Yes. I don't know why, but she can't bear me; and _he_ can't, `
` either." `
` `
` "There I know you're wrong," I said warmly. "On the contrary, `
` John is very fond of you." `
` `
` "Oh, yes--_John_. I meant Lawrence. Not, of course, that I care `
` whether Lawrence hates me or not. Still, it's rather horrid when `
` no one loves you, isn't it?" `
` `
` "But they do, Cynthia dear," I said earnestly. "I'm sure you are `
` mistaken. Look, there is John--and Miss Howard--" `
` `
` Cynthia nodded rather gloomily. "Yes, John likes me, I think, `
` and of course Evie, for all her gruff ways, wouldn't be unkind to `
` a fly. But Lawrence never speaks to me if he can help it, and `
` Mary can hardly bring herself to be civil to me. She wants Evie `
` to stay on, is begging her to, but she doesn't want me, `
` and--and--I don't know what to do." Suddenly the poor child burst `
` out crying. `
` `
` I don't know what possessed me. Her beauty, perhaps, as she sat `
` there, with the sunlight glinting down on her head; perhaps the `
` sense of relief at encountering someone who so obviously could `
` have no connection with the tragedy; perhaps honest pity for her `
` youth and loneliness. Anyway, I leant forward, and taking her `
` little hand, I said awkwardly: `
` `
` "Marry me, Cynthia." `
` `
` Unwittingly, I had hit upon a sovereign remedy for her tears. `
` She sat up at once, drew her hand away, and said, with some `
` asperity: `
` `
` "Don't be silly!" `
` `
` I was a little annoyed. `
` `
` "I'm not being silly. I am asking you to do me the honour of `
` becoming my wife." `
` `
` To my intense surprise, Cynthia burst out laughing, and called me `
` a "funny dear." `
` `
` "It's perfectly sweet of you," she said, "but you know you don't `
` want to!" `
` `
` "Yes, I do. I've got--" `
` `
` "Never mind what you've got. You don't really want to--and I `
` don't either." `
` `
` "Well, of course, that settles it," I said stiffly. "But I don't `
` see anything to laugh at. There's nothing funny about a `
` proposal." `
` `
` "No, indeed," said Cynthia. "Somebody might accept you next `
` time. Good-bye, you've cheered me up very much." `
` `
` And, with a final uncontrollable burst of merriment, she vanished `
` through the trees. `
` `
` Thinking over the interview, it struck me as being profoundly `
` unsatisfactory. `
` `
` It occurred to me suddenly that I would go down to the village, `
` and look up Bauerstein. Somebody ought to be keeping an eye on `
` the fellow. At the same time, it would be wise to allay any `
` suspicions he might have as to his being suspected. I remembered `
` how Poirot had relied on my diplomacy. Accordingly, I went to `
` the little house with the "Apartments" card inserted in the `
` window, where I knew he lodged, and tapped on the door. `
` `
` An old woman came and opened it. `
` `
` "Good afternoon," I said pleasantly. "Is Dr. Bauerstein in?" `
` `
` She stared at me. `
` `
` "Haven't you heard?" `
` `
` "Heard what?" `
` `
` "About him." `
` `
` "What about him?" `
` `
` "He's took." `
` `
` "Took? Dead?" `
` `
` "No, took by the perlice." `
` `
` "By the police!" I gasped. "Do you mean they've arrested him?" `
` `
` "Yes, that's it, and--" `
` `
` I waited to hear no more, but tore up the village to find Poirot. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER X. `
` `
` THE ARREST `
` `
`
` `
` "Look here," I said, "I may be altogether wrong. And, remember, `
` all this is in confidence." `
` `
` "Oh, of course--that goes without saying." `
` `
` We had walked, as we talked, and now we passed through the little `
` gate into the garden. Voices rose near at hand, for tea was `
` spread out under the sycamore-tree, as it had been on the day of `
` my arrival. `
` `
` Cynthia was back from the hospital, and I placed my chair beside `
` her, and told her of Poirot's wish to visit the dispensary. `
` `
` "Of course! I'd love him to see it. He'd better come to tea `
` there one day. I must fix it up with him. He's such a dear `
` little man! But he _is_ funny. He made me take the brooch out of `
` my tie the other day, and put it in again, because he said it `
` wasn't straight." `
` `
` I laughed. `
` `
` "It's quite a mania with him." `
` `
` "Yes, isn't it?" `
` `
` We were silent for a minute or two, and then, glancing in the `
` direction of Mary Cavendish, and dropping her voice, Cynthia `
` said: `
` `
` "Mr. Hastings." `
` `
` "Yes?" `
` `
` "After tea, I want to talk to you." `
` `
` Her glance at Mary had set me thinking. I fancied that between `
` these two there existed very little sympathy. For the first `
` time, it occurred to me to wonder about the girl's future. Mrs. `
` Inglethorp had made no provisions of any kind for her, but I `
` imagined that John and Mary would probably insist on her making `
` her home with them--at any rate until the end of the war. John, `
` I knew, was very fond of her, and would be sorry to let her go. `
` `
` John, who had gone into the house, now reappeared. His `
` good-natured face wore an unaccustomed frown of anger. `
` `
` "Confound those detectives! I can't think what they're after! `
` They've been in every room in the house--turning things inside `
` out, and upside down. It really is too bad! I suppose they took `
` advantage of our all being out. I shall go for that fellow Japp, `
` when I next see him!" `
` `
` "Lot of Paul Prys," grunted Miss Howard. `
` `
` Lawrence opined that they had to make a show of doing something. `
` `
` Mary Cavendish said nothing. `
` `
` After tea, I invited Cynthia to come for a walk, and we sauntered `
` off into the woods together. `
` `
` "Well?" I inquired, as soon as we were protected from prying eyes `
` by the leafy screen. `
` `
` With a sigh, Cynthia flung herself down, and tossed off her hat. `
` The sunlight, piercing through the branches, turned the auburn of `
` her hair to quivering gold. `
` `
` "Mr. Hastings--you are always so kind, and you know such a lot." `
` `
` It struck me at this moment that Cynthia was really a very `
` charming girl! Much more charming than Mary, who never said `
` things of that kind. `
` `
` "Well?" I asked benignantly, as she hesitated. `
` `
` "I want to ask your advice. What shall I do?" `
` `
` "Do?" `
` `
` "Yes. You see, Aunt Emily always told me I should be provided `
` for. I suppose she forgot, or didn't think she was likely to `
` die--anyway, I am _not_ provided for! And I don't know what to do. `
` Do you think I ought to go away from here at once?" `
` `
` "Good heavens, no! They don't want to part with you, I'm sure." `
` `
` Cynthia hesitated a moment, plucking up the grass with her tiny `
` hands. Then she said: "Mrs. Cavendish does. She hates me." `
` `
` "Hates you?" I cried, astonished. `
` `
` Cynthia nodded. `
` `
` "Yes. I don't know why, but she can't bear me; and _he_ can't, `
` either." `
` `
` "There I know you're wrong," I said warmly. "On the contrary, `
` John is very fond of you." `
` `
` "Oh, yes--_John_. I meant Lawrence. Not, of course, that I care `
` whether Lawrence hates me or not. Still, it's rather horrid when `
` no one loves you, isn't it?" `
` `
` "But they do, Cynthia dear," I said earnestly. "I'm sure you are `
` mistaken. Look, there is John--and Miss Howard--" `
` `
` Cynthia nodded rather gloomily. "Yes, John likes me, I think, `
` and of course Evie, for all her gruff ways, wouldn't be unkind to `
` a fly. But Lawrence never speaks to me if he can help it, and `
` Mary can hardly bring herself to be civil to me. She wants Evie `
` to stay on, is begging her to, but she doesn't want me, `
` and--and--I don't know what to do." Suddenly the poor child burst `
` out crying. `
` `
` I don't know what possessed me. Her beauty, perhaps, as she sat `
` there, with the sunlight glinting down on her head; perhaps the `
` sense of relief at encountering someone who so obviously could `
` have no connection with the tragedy; perhaps honest pity for her `
` youth and loneliness. Anyway, I leant forward, and taking her `
` little hand, I said awkwardly: `
` `
` "Marry me, Cynthia." `
` `
` Unwittingly, I had hit upon a sovereign remedy for her tears. `
` She sat up at once, drew her hand away, and said, with some `
` asperity: `
` `
` "Don't be silly!" `
` `
` I was a little annoyed. `
` `
` "I'm not being silly. I am asking you to do me the honour of `
` becoming my wife." `
` `
` To my intense surprise, Cynthia burst out laughing, and called me `
` a "funny dear." `
` `
` "It's perfectly sweet of you," she said, "but you know you don't `
` want to!" `
` `
` "Yes, I do. I've got--" `
` `
` "Never mind what you've got. You don't really want to--and I `
` don't either." `
` `
` "Well, of course, that settles it," I said stiffly. "But I don't `
` see anything to laugh at. There's nothing funny about a `
` proposal." `
` `
` "No, indeed," said Cynthia. "Somebody might accept you next `
` time. Good-bye, you've cheered me up very much." `
` `
` And, with a final uncontrollable burst of merriment, she vanished `
` through the trees. `
` `
` Thinking over the interview, it struck me as being profoundly `
` unsatisfactory. `
` `
` It occurred to me suddenly that I would go down to the village, `
` and look up Bauerstein. Somebody ought to be keeping an eye on `
` the fellow. At the same time, it would be wise to allay any `
` suspicions he might have as to his being suspected. I remembered `
` how Poirot had relied on my diplomacy. Accordingly, I went to `
` the little house with the "Apartments" card inserted in the `
` window, where I knew he lodged, and tapped on the door. `
` `
` An old woman came and opened it. `
` `
` "Good afternoon," I said pleasantly. "Is Dr. Bauerstein in?" `
` `
` She stared at me. `
` `
` "Haven't you heard?" `
` `
` "Heard what?" `
` `
` "About him." `
` `
` "What about him?" `
` `
` "He's took." `
` `
` "Took? Dead?" `
` `
` "No, took by the perlice." `
` `
` "By the police!" I gasped. "Do you mean they've arrested him?" `
` `
` "Yes, that's it, and--" `
` `
` I waited to hear no more, but tore up the village to find Poirot. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER X. `
` `
` THE ARREST `
` `
`