AN INVITATION
IM iss Marple decided1 to miss out on the afternoon’s sightseeing. She admitted to being somewhat tired and wouldperhaps give a miss to an ancient church and its 14th-century glass. She would rest for a while and join them at thetearoom which had been pointed2 out to her in the main street. Mrs. Sandbourne agreed that she was being verysensible.
Miss Marple, resting on a comfortable bench outside the tearoom, reflected on what she planned to do next andwhether it would be wise to do it or not.
When the others joined her at teatime it was easy for her to attach herself unobtrusively to Miss Cooke and MissBarrow and sit with them at a table for four. The fourth chair was occupied by Mr. Caspar whom Miss Marpleconsidered as not sufficiently3 conversant4 with the English language to matter.
Leaning across the table, as she nibbled5 a slice of Swiss roll, Miss Marple said to Miss Cooke,“You know, I am quite sure we have met before. I have been wondering and wondering about it—I’m not as goodas I was at remembering faces, but I’m sure I have met you somewhere.”
Miss Cooke looked kindly6 but doubtful. Her eyes went to her friend, Miss Barrow. So did Miss Marple’s. MissBarrow showed no signs of helping7 to probe the mystery.
“I don’t know if you’ve ever stayed in my part of the world,” went on Miss Marple, “I live in St. Mary Mead8. Quitea small village, you know. At least, not so small nowadays, there is so much building going on everywhere. Not veryfar from Much Benham and only twelve miles from the coast at Loomouth.”
“Oh,” said Miss Cooke, “let me see. Well, I know Loomouth quite well and perhaps—”
Suddenly Miss Marple made a pleased exclamation9.
“Why, of course! I was in my garden one day at St. Mary Mead and you spoke10 to me as you were passing by on thefootpath. You said you were staying down there, I remember, with a friend—”
“Of course,” said Miss Cooke. “How stupid of me. I do remember you now. We spoke of how difficult it wasnowadays to get anyone—to do job gardening, I mean—anyone who was any use.”
“Yes. You were not living there, I think? You were staying with someone.”
“Yes, I was staying with … with …” for a moment Miss Cooke hesitated, with the air of one who hardly knows orremembers a name.
“With a Mrs. Sutherland, was it?” suggested Miss Marple.
“No, no, it was … er … Mrs.—”
“Hastings,” said Miss Barrow firmly as she took a piece of chocolate cake.
“Oh yes, in one of the new houses,” said Miss Marple.
“Hastings,” said Mr. Caspar unexpectedly. He beamed. “I have been to Hastings—I have been to Eastbourne, too.”
He beamed again. “Very nice—by the sea.”
“Such a coincidence,” said Miss Marple, “meeting again so soon—such a small world, isn’t it?”
“Oh, well, we are all so fond of gardens,” said Miss Cooke vaguely11.
“Flowers very pretty,” said Mr. Caspar. “I like very much—” He beamed again.
“So many rare and beautiful shrubs,” said Miss Cooke.
Miss Marple went full speed ahead with a gardening conversation of some technicality—Miss Cooke responded.
Miss Barrow put in an occasional remark.
Mr. Caspar relapsed into smiling silence.
Later, as Miss Marple took her usual rest before dinner, she conned12 over what she had collected. Miss Cooke hadadmitted being in St. Mary Mead. She had admitted walking past Miss Marple’s house. Had agreed it was quite acoincidence. Coincidence? thought Miss Marple meditatively13, turning the word over in her mouth rather as a childmight do to a certain lollipop14 to decide its flavour. Was it a coincidence? Or had she had some reason to come there?
Had she been sent there? Sent there—for what reason? Was that a ridiculous thing to imagine?
“Any coincidence,” said Miss Marple to herself, “is always worth noticing. You can throw it away later if it is onlya coincidence.”
Miss Cooke and Miss Barrow appeared to be a perfectly15 normal pair of friends doing the kind of tour which,according to them, they did every year. They had been on an Hellenic cruise last year and a tour of bulbs in Hollandthe year before, and Northern Ireland the year before that. They seemed perfectly pleasant and ordinary people. ButMiss Cooke, she thought, had for a moment looked as though she were about to disclaim16 her visit to St. Mary Mead.
She had looked at her friend, Miss Barrow, rather as though she were seeking instruction as to what to say. MissBarrow was presumably the senior partner—
“Of course, really, I may have been imagining all these things,” thought Miss Marple. “They may have nosignificance whatever.”
The word danger came unexpectedly into her mind. Used by Mr. Rafiel in his first letter—and there had been somereference to her needing a guardian17 angel in his second letter. Was she going into danger in this business?—and why?
From whom?
Surely not from Miss Cooke and Miss Barrow. Such an ordinary-looking couple.
All the same Miss Cooke had dyed her hair and altered her style of hairdressing. Disguised her appearance as muchas she could, in fact. Which was odd, to say the least of it! She considered once more her fellow travellers.
Mr. Caspar, now, it would have been much easier to imagine that he might be dangerous. Did he understand moreEnglish than he pretended to do? She began to wonder about Mr. Caspar.
Miss Marple had never quite succeeded in abandoning her Victorian view of foreigners. One never knew withforeigners. Quite absurd, of course, to feel like that—she had many friends from various foreign countries. All thesame …? Miss Cooke, Miss Barrow, Mr. Caspar, that young man with the wild hair — Emlyn Something — arevolutionary—a practising anarchist18? Mr. and Mrs. Butler—such nice Americans—but perhaps—too good to be true?
“Really,” said Miss Marple, “I must pull myself together.”
She turned her attention to the itinerary19 of their trip. Tomorrow, she thought, was going to be rather strenuous20. Amorning’s sightseeing drive, starting rather early: a long, rather athletic21 walk on a coastal22 path in the afternoon.
Certain interesting marine23 flowering plants—it would be tiring. A tactful suggestion was appended. Anyone who feltlike a rest could stay behind in their hotel, the Golden Boar, which had a very pleasant garden or could do a shortexcursion which would only take an hour, to a beauty spot nearby. She thought perhaps that she would do that.
But though she did not know it then, her plans were to be suddenly altered.
II
As Miss Marple came down from her room in the Golden Boar the next day after washing her hands before luncheon,a woman in a tweed coat and skirt came forward rather nervously24 and spoke to her.
“Excuse me, are you Miss Marple—Miss Jane Marple?”
“Yes, that is my name,” said Miss Marple, slightly surprised.
“My name is Mrs. Glynne. Lavinia Glynne. I and my two sisters live near here and—well, we heard you werecoming, you see—”
“You heard I was coming?” said Miss Marple with some slight surprise.
“Yes. A very old friend of ours wrote to us—oh, quite some time ago, it must have been three weeks ago, but heasked us to make a note of this date. The date of the Famous Houses and Gardens Tour. He said that a great friend ofhis—or a relation, I’m not quite sure which—would be on that tour.”
Miss Marple continued to look surprised.
“I’m speaking of a Mr. Rafiel,” said Mrs. Glynne.
“Oh! Mr. Rafiel,” said Miss Marple—“you—you know that—”
“That he died? Yes. So sad. Just after his letter came. I think it must have been certainly very soon after he wrote tous. But we felt a special urgency to try to do what he had asked. He suggested, you know, that perhaps you would liketo come and stay with us for a couple of nights. This part of the tour is rather strenuous. I mean, it’s all right for theyoung people, but it is very trying for anyone older. It involves several miles of walking and a certain amount ofclimbing up difficult cliff paths and places. My sisters and I would be so very pleased if you could come and stay inour house here. It is only ten minutes’ walk from the hotel and I’m sure we could show you many interesting thingslocally.”
Miss Marple hesitated a minute. She liked the look of Mrs. Glynne, plump, good-natured, and friendly though alittle shy. Besides—here again must be Mr. Rafiel’s instructions—the next step for her to take? Yes, it must be so.
She wondered why she felt nervous. Perhaps because she was now at home with the people in the tour, felt part ofthe group although as yet she had only known them for three days.
She turned to where Mrs. Glynne was standing25, looking up at her anxiously.
“Thank you—it is most kind of you. I shall be very pleased to come.”

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1
decided
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adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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2
pointed
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adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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3
sufficiently
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adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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conversant
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adj.亲近的,有交情的,熟悉的 | |
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5
nibbled
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v.啃,一点一点地咬(吃)( nibble的过去式和过去分词 );啃出(洞),一点一点咬出(洞);慢慢减少;小口咬 | |
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6
kindly
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adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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7
helping
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n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
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8
mead
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n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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9
exclamation
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n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
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10
spoke
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n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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11
vaguely
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adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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12
conned
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adj.被骗了v.指挥操舵( conn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
meditatively
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adv.冥想地 | |
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14
lollipop
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n.棒棒糖 | |
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15
perfectly
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adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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16
disclaim
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v.放弃权利,拒绝承认 | |
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17
guardian
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n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
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18
anarchist
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n.无政府主义者 | |
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19
itinerary
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n.行程表,旅行路线;旅行计划 | |
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20
strenuous
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adj.奋发的,使劲的;紧张的;热烈的,狂热的 | |
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21
athletic
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adj.擅长运动的,强健的;活跃的,体格健壮的 | |
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22
coastal
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adj.海岸的,沿海的,沿岸的 | |
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23
marine
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adj.海的;海生的;航海的;海事的;n.水兵 | |
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24
nervously
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adv.神情激动地,不安地 | |
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25
standing
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n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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