B REAKFAST AT L ITTLE P ADDOCKS
IA t Little Paddocks also, breakfast was in progress.
Miss Blacklock, a woman of sixty odd, the owner of the house, sat at the head of the table. She wore countrytweeds—and with them, rather incongruously, a choker necklace of large false pearls. She was reading Lane Norcottin the Daily Mail. Julia Simmons was languidly glancing through the Telegraph. Patrick Simmons was checking up onthe crossword1 in The Times. Miss Dora Bunner was giving her attention wholeheartedly to the local weekly paper.
Miss Blacklock gave a subdued2 chuckle3, Patrick muttered: “Adherent—not adhesive—that’s where I went wrong.”
Suddenly a loud cluck, like a startled hen, came from Miss Bunner.
“Letty—Letty—have you seen this? Whatever can it mean?”
“What’s the matter, Dora?”
“The most extraordinary advertisement. It says Little Paddocks quite distinctly. But whatever can it mean?”
“If you’d let me see, Dora dear—”
Miss Bunner obediently surrendered the paper into Miss Blacklock’s outstretched hand, pointing to the item with atremulous forefinger4.
“Just look, Letty.”
Miss Blacklock looked. Her eyebrows5 went up. She threw a quick scrutinizing6 glance round the table. Then sheread the advertisement out loud.
“A murder is announced and will take place on Friday, October 29th, at Little Paddocks at 6:30 p.m.
Friends please accept this, the only intimation.”
Then she said sharply: “Patrick, is this your idea?”
Her eyes rested searchingly on the handsome devil-may-care face of the young man at the other end of the table.
Patrick Simmons’ disclaimer came quickly.
“No, indeed, Aunt Letty. Whatever put that idea into your head? Why should I know anything about it?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you,” said Miss Blacklock grimly. “I thought it might be your idea of a joke.”
“A joke? Nothing of the kind.”
“And you, Julia?”
Julia, looking bored, said: “Of course not.”
Miss Bunner murmured: “Do you think Mrs. Haymes—” and looked at an empty place where someone hadbreakfasted earlier.
“Oh, I don’t think our Phillipa would try and be funny,” said Patrick. “She’s a serious girl, she is.”
“But what’s the idea, anyway?” said Julia, yawning. “What does it mean?”
Miss Blacklock said slowly, “I suppose—it’s some silly sort of hoax7.”
“But why?” Dora Bunner exclaimed. “What’s the point of it? It seems a very stupid sort of joke. And in very badtaste.”
Her flabby cheeks quivered indignantly, and her shortsighted eyes sparkled with indignation.
Miss Blacklock smiled at her.
“Don’t work yourself up over it, Bunny,” she said. “It’s just somebody’s idea of humour, but I wish I knewwhose.”
“It says today,” pointed8 out Miss Bunner. “Today at 6:30 p.m. What do you think is going to happen?”
“Death!” said Patrick in sepulchral9 tones. “Delicious death.”
“Be quiet, Patrick,” said Miss Blacklock as Miss Bunner gave a little yelp10.
“I only meant the special cake that Mitzi makes,” said Patrick apologetically. “You know we always call itdelicious death.”
Miss Blacklock smiled a little absentmindedly.
Miss Bunner persisted: “But Letty, what do you really think—?”
Her friend cut across the words with reassuring11 cheerfulness.
“I know one thing that will happen at 6:30,” she said dryly. “We’ll have half the village up here, agog12 withcuriosity. I’d better make sure we’ve got some sherry in the house.”
II
“You are worried, aren’t you Lotty?”
Miss Blacklock started. She had been sitting at her writing-table, absentmindedly drawing little fishes on theblotting paper. She looked up into the anxious face of her old friend.
She was not quite sure what to say to Dora Bunner. Bunny, she knew, mustn’t be worried or upset. She was silentfor a moment or two, thinking.
She and Dora Bunner had been at school together. Dora then had been a pretty, fair-haired, blue-eyed rather stupidgirl. Her being stupid hadn’t mattered, because her gaiety and high spirits and her prettiness had made her anagreeable companion. She ought, her friend thought, to have married some nice Army officer, or a country solicitor13.
She had so many good qualities—affection, devotion, loyalty14. But life had been unkind to Dora Bunner. She had hadto earn her living. She had been painstaking15 but never competent at anything she undertook.
The two friends had lost sight of each other. But six months ago a letter had come to Miss Blacklock, a rambling,pathetic letter. Dora’s health had given way. She was living in one room, trying to subsist16 on her old age pension. Sheendeavoured to do needlework, but her fingers were stiff with rheumatism17. She mentioned their schooldays—sincethen life had driven them apart—but could—possibly—her old friend help?
Miss Blacklock had responded impulsively18. Poor Dora, poor pretty silly fluffy19 Dora. She had swooped20 down uponDora, had carried her off, had installed her at Little Paddocks with the comforting fiction that “the housework isgetting too much for me. I need someone to help me run the house.” It was not for long—the doctor had told her that—but sometimes she found poor old Dora a sad trial. She muddled21 everything, upset the temperamental foreign“help,” miscounted the laundry, lost bills and letters—and sometimes reduced the competent Miss Blacklock to anagony of exasperation22. Poor old muddle-headed Dora, so loyal, so anxious to help, so pleased and proud to think shewas of assistance—and, alas23, so completely unreliable.
She said sharply:
“Don’t, Dora. You know I asked you—”
“Oh,” Miss Bunner looked guilty. “I know. I forgot. But—but you are, aren’t you?”
“Worried? No. At least,” she added truthfully, “not exactly. You mean about that silly notice in the Gazette?”
“Yes—even if it’s a joke, it seems to me it’s a—a spiteful sort of joke.”
“Spiteful?”
“Yes. It seems to me there’s spite there somewhere. I mean—it’s not a nice kind of joke.”
Miss Blacklock looked at her friend. The mild eyes, the long obstinate24 mouth, the slightly upturned nose. PoorDora, so maddening, so muddle-headed, so devoted25 and such a problem. A dear fussy26 old idiot and yet, in a queerway, with an instinctive27 sense of value.
“I think you’re right, Dora,” said Miss Blacklock. “It’s not a nice joke.”
“I don’t like it at all,” said Dora Bunner with unsuspected vigour28. “It frightens me.” She added, suddenly: “And itfrightens you, Letitia.”
“Nonsense,” said Miss Blacklock with spirit.
“It’s dangerous. I’m sure it is. Like those people who send you bombs done up in parcels.”
“My dear, it’s just some silly idiot trying to be funny.”
“But it isn’t funny.”
It wasn’t really very funny … Miss Blacklock’s face betrayed her thoughts, and Dora cried triumphantly29, “You see.
You think so, too!”
“But Dora, my dear—”
She broke off. Through the door there surged a tempestuous30 young woman with a well-developed bosom31 heavingunder a tight jersey32. She had on a dirndl skirt of a bright colour and had greasy33 dark plaits wound round and round herhead. Her eyes were dark and flashing.
She said gustily34:
“I can speak to you, yes, please, no?”
Miss Blacklock sighed.
“Of course, Mitzi, what is it?”
Sometimes she thought it would be preferable to do the entire work of the house as well as the cooking rather thanbe bothered with the eternal nerve storms of her refugee “lady help.”
“I tell you at once—it is in order, I hope? I give you my notices and I go—I go at once!”
“For what reason? Has somebody upset you?”
“Yes, I am upset,” said Mitzi dramatically. “I do not wish to die! Already in Europe I escape. My family they alldie—they are all killed—my mother, my little brother, my so sweet little niece—all, all they are killed. But me I runaway—I hide. I get to England. I work. I do work that never—never would I do in my own country—I—”
“I know all that,” said Miss Blacklock crisply. It was, indeed, a constant refrain on Mitzi’s lips. “But why do youwant to leave now?”
“Because again they come to kill me!”
“Who do?”
“My enemies. The Nazis35! Or perhaps this time it is the Bolsheviks. They find out I am here. They come to kill me.
I have read it—yes—it is in the newspaper!”
“Oh, you mean in the Gazette?”
“Here, it is written here.” Mitzi produced the Gazette from where she had been holding it behind her back. “See—here it says a murder. At Little Paddocks. That is here, is it not? This evening at 6:30. Ah! I do not wait to bemurdered—no.”
“But why should this apply to you? It’s—we think it is a joke.”
“A joke? It is not a joke to murder someone.”
“No, of course not. But my dear child, if anyone wanted to murder you, they wouldn’t advertise the fact in thepaper, would they?”
“You do not think they would?” Mitzi seemed a little shaken. “You think, perhaps, they do not mean to murderanyone at all? Perhaps it is you they mean to murder, Miss Blacklock.”
“I certainly can’t believe anyone wants to murder me,” said Miss Blacklock lightly. “And really, Mitzi, I don’t seewhy anyone should want to murder you. After all, why should they?”
“Because they are bad peoples … Very bad peoples. I tell you, my mother, my little brother, my so sweet niece….”
“Yes, yes.” Miss Blacklock stemmed the flow, adroitly36. “But I cannot really believe anyone wants to murder you,Mitzi. Of course, if you want to go off like this at a moment’s notice, I can’t possibly stop you. But I think you will bevery silly if you do.”
She added firmly, as Mitzi looked doubtful:
“We’ll have that beef the butcher sent stewed37 for lunch. It looks very tough.”
“I make you a goulash, a special goulash.”
“If you prefer to call it that, certainly. And perhaps you could use up that rather hard bit of cheese in making somecheese straws. I think some people may come in this evening for drinks.”
“This evening? What do you mean, this evening?”
“At half past six.”
“But that is the time in the paper? Who should come then? Why should they come?”
“They’re coming to the funeral,” said Miss Blacklock with a twinkle. “That’ll do now, Mitzi. I’m busy. Shut thedoor after you,” she added firmly.
“And that’s settled her for the moment,” she said as the door closed behind a puzzled-looking Mitzi.
“You are so efficient, Letty,” said Miss Bunner admiringly.
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收听单词发音
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1
crossword
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| n.纵横字谜，纵横填字游戏 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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3
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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scrutinizing
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
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hoax
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| v.欺骗，哄骗，愚弄；n.愚弄人，恶作剧 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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10
yelp
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| vi.狗吠 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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agog
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| adj.兴奋的，有强烈兴趣的； adv.渴望地 | |
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13
solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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14
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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15
painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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16
subsist
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| vi.生存，存在，供养 | |
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rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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18
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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19
fluffy
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| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
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swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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tempestuous
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| adj.狂暴的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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34
gustily
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| adv.暴风地，狂风地 | |
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35
Nazis
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| n.（德国的）纳粹党员( Nazi的名词复数 )；纳粹主义 | |
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36
adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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37
stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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