THE FOUR SUSPECTS
T he conversation hovered1 round undiscovered and unpunished crimes. Everyone in turn vouchsafed2 their opinion:
Colonel Bantry, his plump amiable3 wife, Jane Helier, Dr. Lloyd, and even old Miss Marple. The one person who didnot speak was the one best fitted in most people’s opinion to do so. Sir Henry Clithering, ex-Commissioner ofScotland Yard, sat silent, twisting his moustache—or rather stroking it—and half smiling, as though at some inwardthought that amused him.
“Sir Henry,” said Mrs. Bantry at last. “If you don’t say something I shall scream. Are there a lot of crimes that gounpunished, or are there not?”
“You’re thinking of newspaper headlines, Mrs. Bantry. SCOTLAND YARD AT FAULT AGAIN. And a list of unsolvedmysteries to follow.”
“Which really, I suppose, form a very small percentage of the whole?” said Dr. Lloyd.
“Yes; that is so. The hundreds of crimes that are solved and the perpetrators punished are seldom heralded4 andsung. But that isn’t quite the point at issue, is it? When you talk of undiscovered crimes and unsolved crimes, you aretalking of two different things. In the first category come all the crimes that Scotland Yard never hears about, thecrimes that no one even knows have been committed.”
“But I suppose there aren’t very many of those?” said Mrs. Bantry.
“Aren’t there?”
“Sir Henry! You don’t mean there are?”
“I should think,” said Miss Marple thoughtfully, “that there must be a very large number.”
The charming old lady, with her old-world unruffled air, made her statement in a tone of the utmost placidity5.
“My dear Miss Marple,” said Colonel Bantry.
“Of course,” said Miss Marple, “a lot of people are stupid. And stupid people get found out, whatever they do. Butthere are quite a number of people who aren’t stupid, and one shudders6 to think of what they might accomplish unlessthey had very strongly rooted principles.”
“Yes,” said Sir Henry, “there are a lot of people who aren’t stupid. How often does some crime come to lightsimply by reason of a bit of unmitigated bungling7, and each time one asks oneself the question: If this hadn’t beenbungled, would anyone ever have known?”
“But that’s very serious, Clithering,” said Colonel Bantry. “Very serious, indeed.”
“Is it?”
“What do you mean! It is! Of course it’s serious.”
“You say crime goes unpunished; but does it? Unpunished by the law perhaps; but cause and effect works outsidethe law. To say that every crime brings its own punishment is by way of being a platitude8, and yet in my opinionnothing can be truer.”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” said Colonel Bantry. “But that doesn’t alter the seriousness—the—er—seriousness—” Hepaused, rather at a loss.
Sir Henry Clithering smiled.
“Ninety-nine people out of a hundred are doubtless of your way of thinking,” he said. “But you know, it isn’treally guilt9 that is important—it’s innocence10. That’s the thing that nobody will realize.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jane Helier.
“I do,” said Miss Marple. “When Mrs. Trent found half a crown missing from her bag, the person it affected11 mostwas the daily woman, Mrs. Arthur. Of course the Trents thought it was her, but being kindly12 people and knowing shehad a large family and a husband who drinks, well—they naturally didn’t want to go to extremes. But they feltdifferently towards her, and they didn’t leave her in charge of the house when they went away, which made a greatdifference to her; and other people began to get a feeling about her too. And then it suddenly came out that it was thegoverness. Mrs. Trent saw her through a door reflected in a mirror. The purest chance—though I prefer to call itProvidence. And that, I think, is what Sir Henry means. Most people would be only interested in who took the money,and it turned out to be the most unlikely person—just like in detective stories! But the real person it was life and deathto was poor Mrs. Arthur, who had done nothing. That’s what you mean, isn’t it, Sir Henry?”
“Yes, Miss Marple, you’ve hit off my meaning exactly. Your charwoman person was lucky in the instance yourelate. Her innocence was shown. But some people may go through a lifetime crushed by the weight of a suspicionthat is really unjustified.”
“Are you thinking of some particular instance, Sir Henry?” asked Mrs. Bantry shrewdly.
“As a matter of fact, Mrs. Bantry, I am. A very curious case. A case where we believe murder to have beencommitted, but with no possible chance of ever proving it.”
“Poison, I suppose,” breathed Jane. “Something untraceable.”
Dr. Lloyd moved restlessly and Sir Henry shook his head.
“No, dear lady. Not the secret arrow poison of the South American Indians! I wish it were something of that kind.
We have to deal with something much more prosaic13—so prosaic, in fact, that there is no hope of bringing the deedhome to its perpetrator. An old gentleman who fell downstairs and broke his neck; one of those regrettable accidentswhich happen every day.”
“But what happened really?”
“Who can say?” Sir Henry shrugged14 his shoulders. “A push from behind? A piece of cotton or string tied acrossthe top of the stairs and carefully removed afterwards? That we shall never know.”
“But you do think that it—well, wasn’t an accident? Now why?” asked the doctor.
“That’s rather a long story, but—well, yes, we’re pretty sure. As I said there’s no chance of being able to bring thedeed home to anyone—the evidence would be too flimsy. But there’s the other aspect of the case—the one I wasspeaking about. You see, there were four people who might have done the trick. One’s guilty; but the other three areinnocent. And unless the truth is found out, those three are going to remain under the terrible shadow of doubt.”
“I think,” said Mrs. Bantry, “that you’d better tell us your long story.”
“I needn’t make it so very long after all,” said Sir Henry. “I can at any rate condense the beginning. That dealswith a German secret society—the Schwartze Hand—something after the lines of the Camorra or what is mostpeople’s idea of the Camorra. A scheme of blackmail15 and terrorization. The thing started quite suddenly after the War,and spread to an amazing extent. Numberless people were victimized by it. The authorities were not successful incoping with it, for its secrets were jealously guarded, and it was almost impossible to find anyone who could beinduced to betray them.
“Nothing much was ever known about it in England, but in Germany it was having a most paralysing effect. It wasfinally broken up and dispersed16 through the efforts of one man, a Dr. Rosen, who had at one time been very prominentin Secret Service work. He became a member, penetrated17 its inmost circle, and was, as I say, instrumental in bringingabout its downfall.
“But he was, in consequence, a marked man, and it was deemed wise that he should leave Germany—at any ratefor a time. He came to England, and we had letters about him from the police in Berlin. He came and had a personalinterview with me. His point of view was both dispassionate and resigned. He had no doubts of what the future heldfor him.
“‘They will get me, Sir Henry,’ he said. ‘Not a doubt of it.’ He was a big man with a fine head, and a very deepvoice, with only a slight guttural intonation18 to tell of his nationality. ‘That is a foregone conclusion. It does not matter,I am prepared. I faced the risk when I undertook this business. I have done what I set out to do. The organization cannever be got together again. But there are many members of it at liberty, and they will take the only revenge they can—my life. It is simply a question of time; but I am anxious that that time should be as long as possible. You see, I amcollecting and editing some very interesting material—the result of my life’s work. I should like, if possible, to be ableto complete my task.’
“He spoke19 very simply, with a certain grandeur20 which I could not but admire. I told him we would take allprecautions, but he waved my words aside.
“‘Someday, sooner or later, they will get me,’ he repeated. ‘When that day comes, do not distress21 yourself. Youwill, I have no doubt, have done all that is possible.’
“He then proceeded to outline his plans which were simple enough. He proposed to take a small cottage in thecountry where he could live quietly and go on with his work. In the end he selected a village in Somerset—King’sGnaton, which was seven miles from a railway station, and singularly untouched by civilization. He bought a verycharming cottage, had various improvements and alterations22 made, and settled down there most contentedly23. Hishousehold consisted of his niece, Greta, a secretary, an old German servant who had served him faithfully for nearlyforty years, and an outside handyman and gardener who was a native of King’s Gnaton.”
“The four suspects,” said Dr. Lloyd softly.
“Exactly. The four suspects. There is not much more to tell. Life went on peacefully at King’s Gnaton for fivemonths and then the blow fell. Dr. Rosen fell down the stairs one morning and was found dead about half an hourlater. At the time the accident must have taken place, Gertrud was in her kitchen with the door closed and heardnothing—so she says. Fr?ulein Greta was in the garden planting some bulbs—again, so she says. The gardener,Dobbs, was in the small potting shed having his elevenses—so he says; and the secretary was out for a walk, and oncemore there is only his own word for it. No one has an alibi—no one can corroborate24 anyone else’s story. But one thingis certain. No one from outside could have done it, for a stranger in the little village of King’s Gnaton would benoticed without fail. Both the back and the front doors were locked, each member of the household having their ownkey. So you see it narrows down to those four. And yet each one seems to be above suspicion. Greta, his own brother’schild. Gertrud, with forty years of faithful service. Dobbs, who has never been out of King’s Gnaton. And CharlesTempleton, the secretary—”
“Yes,” said Colonel Bantry, “what about him? He seems the suspicious person to my mind. What do you knowabout him?”
“It is what I knew about him that put him completely out of court—at any rate at the time,” said Sir Henry gravely.
“You see, Charles Templeton was one of my own men.”
“Oh!” said Colonel Bantry, considerably25 taken aback.
“Yes. I wanted to have someone on the spot, and at the same time I didn’t want to cause talk in the village. Rosenreally needed a secretary. I put Templeton on the job. He’s a gentleman, he speaks German fluently, and he’saltogether a very able fellow.”
“But, then, which do you suspect?” asked Mrs. Bantry in a bewildered tone. “They all seem so—well, impossible.”
“Yes, so it appears. But you can look at the thing from another angle. Fr?ulein Greta was his niece and a verylovely girl, but the War has shown us time and again that brother can turn against sister, or father against son and soon, and the loveliest and gentlest of young girls did some of the most amazing things. The same thing applies toGertrud, and who knows what other forces might be at work in her case. A quarrel, perhaps, with her master, agrowing resentment27 all the more lasting28 because of the long faithful years behind her. Elderly women of that class canbe amazingly bitter sometimes. And Dobbs? Was he right outside it because he had no connection with the family?
Money will do much. In some way Dobbs might have been approached and bought.
“For one thing seems certain: Some message or some order must have come from outside. Otherwise why fivemonths’ immunity29? No, the agents of the society must have been at work. Not yet sure of Rosen’s perfidy30, theydelayed till the betrayal had been traced to him beyond any possible doubt. And then, all doubts set aside, they musthave sent their message to the spy within the gates—the message that said, ‘Kill.’”
“How nasty!” said Jane Helier, and shuddered31.
“But how did the message come? That was the point I tried to elucidate—the one hope of solving my problem.
One of those four people must have been approached or communicated with in some way. There would be no delay—Iknew that—as soon as the command came, it would be carried out. That was a peculiarity32 of the Schwartze Hand.
“I went into the question, went into it in a way that will probably strike you as being ridiculously meticulous34. Whohad come to the cottage that morning? I eliminated nobody. Here is the list.”
He took an envelope from his pocket and selected a paper from its contents.
“The butcher, bringing some neck of mutton. Investigated and found correct.
“The grocer’s assistant, bringing a packet of cornflour, two pounds of sugar, a pound of butter, and a pound ofcoffee. Also investigated and found correct.
“The postman, bringing two circulars for Fr?ulein Rosen, a local letter for Gertrud, three letters for Dr. Rosen, onewith a foreign stamp and two letters for Mr. Templeton, one also with a foreign stamp.”
Sir Henry paused and then took a sheaf of documents from the envelope.
“It may interest you to see these for yourself. They were handed me by the various people concerned, or collectedfrom the waste-paper basket. I need hardly say they’ve been tested by experts for invisible ink, etc. No excitement ofthat kind is possible.”
Everyone crowded round to look. The catalogues were respectively from a nurseryman and from a prominentLondon fur establishment. The two bills addressed to Dr. Rosen were a local one for seeds for the garden and onefrom a London stationery35 firm. The letter addressed to him ran as follows:
My Dear Rosen—just back from Dr. Helmuth Spath’s. I saw Edgar Jackson the other day. He and Amos Perryhave just come back from Tsingtau. In all Honesty I can’t say I envy them the trip. Let me have news of yousoon. As I said before: Beware of a certain person. You know who I mean, though you don’t agree.—Yours, Georgine.
“Mr. Templeton’s mail consisted of this bill, which as you see, is an account rendered from his tailor, and a letter froma friend in Germany,” went on Sir Henry. “The latter, unfortunately, he tore up whilst out on his walk. Finally we havethe letter received by Gertrud.”
Dear Mrs. Swartz,—We’re hoping as how you be able to come the social on friday evening, the vicar says hashe hopes you will—one and all being welcome. The resipy for the ham was very good, and I thanks you for it.
Hoping as this finds you well and that we shall see you friday I remain.—Yours faithfully, Emma Greene.
Dr. Lloyd smiled a little over this and so did Mrs. Bantry.
“I think the last letter can be put out of court,” said Dr. Lloyd.
“I thought the same,” said Sir Henry; “but I took the precaution of verifying that there was a Mrs. Greene and aChurch Social. One can’t be too careful, you know.”
“That’s what our friend Miss Marple always says,” said Dr. Lloyd, smiling. “You’re lost in a daydream36, MissMarple. What are you thinking out?”
Miss Marple gave a start.
“So stupid of me,” she said. “I was just wondering why the word Honesty in Dr. Rosen’s letter was spelt with acapital H.”
Mrs. Bantry picked it up.
“So it is,” she said. “Oh!”
“Yes, dear,” said Miss Marple. “I thought you’d notice!”
“There’s a definite warning in that letter,” said Colonel Bantry. “That’s the first thing caught my attention. I noticemore than you’d think. Yes, a definite warning—against whom?”
“There’s rather a curious point about that letter,” said Sir Henry. “According to Templeton, Dr. Rosen opened theletter at breakfast and tossed it across to him saying he didn’t know who the fellow was from Adam.”
“But it wasn’t a fellow,” said Jane Helier. “It was signed ‘Georgina.’”
“It’s difficult to say which it is,” said Dr. Lloyd. “It might be Georgey; but it certainly looks more like Georgina.
Only it strikes me that the writing is a man’s.”
“You know, that’s interesting,” said Colonel Bantry. “His tossing it across the table like that and pretending heknew nothing about it. Wanted to watch somebody’s face. Whose face—the girl’s? or the man’s?”
“Or even the cook’s?” suggested Mrs. Bantry. “She might have been in the room bringing in the breakfast. Butwhat I don’t see is .?.?. it’s most peculiar33—”
She frowned over the letter. Miss Marple drew closer to her. Miss Marple’s finger went out and touched the sheetof paper. They murmured together.
“But why did the secretary tear up the other letter?” asked Jane Helier suddenly. “It seems—oh! I don’t know—itseems queer. Why should he have letters from Germany? Although, of course, if he’s above suspicion, as you say—”
“But Sir Henry didn’t say that,” said Miss Marple quickly, looking up from her murmured conference with Mrs.
Bantry. “He said four suspects. So that shows that he includes Mr. Templeton. I’m right, am I not, Sir Henry?”
“Yes, Miss Marple. I have learned one thing through bitter experience. Never say to yourself that anyone is abovesuspicion. I gave you reasons just now why three of these people might after all be guilty, unlikely as it seemed. I didnot at that time apply the same process to Charles Templeton. But I came to it at last through pursuing the rule I havejust mentioned. And I was forced to recognize this: That every army and every navy and every police force has acertain number of traitors37 within its ranks, much as we hate to admit the idea. And I examined dispassionately the caseagainst Charles Templeton.
“I asked myself very much the same questions as Miss Helier has just asked. Why should he, alone of all thehouse, not be able to produce the letter he had received—a letter, moreover, with a German stamp on it. Why shouldhe have letters from Germany?
“The last question was an innocent one, and I actually put it to him. His reply came simply enough. His mother’ssister was married to a German. The letter had been from a German girl cousin. So I learned something I did not knowbefore—that Charles Templeton had relations with people in Germany. And that put him definitely on the list ofsuspects—very much so. He is my own man—a lad I have always liked and trusted; but in common justice andfairness I must admit that he heads that list.
“But there it is—I do not know! I do not know .?.?. And in all probability I never shall know. It is not a question ofpunishing a murderer. It is a question that to me seems a hundred times more important. It is the blighting38, perhaps, ofan honourable39 man’s whole career .?.?. because of suspicion—a suspicion that I dare not disregard.”
Miss Marple coughed and said gently:
“Then, Sir Henry, if I understand you rightly, it is this young Mr. Templeton only who is so much on your mind?”
“Yes, in a sense. It should, in theory, be the same for all four, but that is not actually the case. Dobbs, for instance—suspicion may attach to him in my mind, but it will not actually affect his career. Nobody in the village has ever hadany idea that old Dr. Rosen’s death was anything but an accident. Gertrud is slightly more affected. It must make, forinstance, a difference in Fr?ulein Rosen’s attitude toward her. But that, possibly, is not of great importance to her.
“As for Greta Rosen—well, here we come to the crux40 of the matter. Greta is a very pretty girl and CharlesTempleton is a good-looking young man, and for five months they were thrown together with no outer distractions41.
The inevitable42 happened. They fell in love with each other—even if they did not come to the point of admitting thefact in words.
“And then the catastrophe43 happens. It is three months ago now and a day or two after I returned, Greta Rosen cameto see me. She had sold the cottage and was returning to Germany, having finally settled up her uncle’s affairs. Shecame to me personally, although she knew I had retired44, because it was really about a personal matter she wanted tosee me. She beat about the bush a little, but at last it all came out. What did I think? That letter with the German stamp—she had worried about it and worried about it—the one Charles had torn up. Was it all right? Surely it must be allright. Of course she believed his story, but—oh! if she only knew! If she knew—for certain.
“You see? The same feeling: the wish to trust—but the horrible lurking45 suspicion, thrust resolutely46 to the back ofthe mind, but persisting nevertheless. I spoke to her with absolute frankness, and asked her to do the same. I asked herwhether she had been on the point of caring for Charles, and he for her.
“‘I think so,’ she said. ‘Oh, yes, I know it was so. We were so happy. Every day passed so contentedly. We knew—we both knew. There was no hurry—there was all the time in the world. Someday he would tell me he loved me,and I should tell him that I too—Ah! But you can guess! And now it is all changed. A black cloud has come betweenus—we are constrained47, when we meet we do not know what to say. It is, perhaps, the same with him as with me .?.?.
We are each saying to ourselves, “If I were sure!” That is why, Sir Henry, I beg of you to say to me, “You may besure, whoever killed your uncle, it was not Charles Templeton!” Say it to me! Oh, say it to me! I beg—I beg!’
“And, damn it all,” said Sir Henry, bringing down his fist with a bang on the table, “I couldn’t say it to her. They’lldrift farther and farther apart, those two—with suspicion like a ghost between them—a ghost that can’t be laid.”
He leant back in his chair, his face looked tired and grey. He shook his head once or twice despondently48.
“And there’s nothing more can be done, unless—” He sat up straight again and a tiny whimsical smile crossed hisface—“unless Miss Marple can help us. Can’t you, Miss Marple? I’ve a feeling that letter might be in your line, youknow. The one about the Church Social. Doesn’t it remind you of something or someone that makes everythingperfectly plain? Can’t you do something to help two helpless young people who want to be happy?”
Behind the whimsicality there was something earnest in his appeal. He had come to think very highly of the mentalpowers of this frail50 old-fashioned maiden51 lady. He looked across at her with something very like hope in his eyes.
Miss Marple coughed and smoothed her lace.
“It does remind me a little of Annie Poultny,” she admitted. “Of course the letter is perfectly49 plain—both to Mrs.
Bantry and myself. I don’t mean the Church Social letter, but the other one. You living so much in London and notbeing a gardener, Sir Henry, would not have been likely to notice.”
“Eh?” said Sir Henry. “Notice what?”
Mrs. Bantry reached out a hand and selected a catalogue. She opened it and read aloud with gusto:
“Dr. Helmuth Spath. Pure lilac, a wonderfully fine flower, carried on exceptionally long and stiff stem. Splendidfor cutting and garden decoration. A novelty of striking beauty.
“Edgar Jackson. Beautifully shaped chrysanthemum-like flower of a distinct brick-red colour.
“Amos Perry. Brilliant red, highly decorative52.
“Tsingtau. Brilliant orange-red, showy garden plant and lasting cut flower.
“Honesty—”
“With a capital H, you remember,” murmured Miss Marple.
“Honesty. Rose and white shades, enormous perfect shaped flower.”
Mrs. Bantry flung down the catalogue, and said with immense explosive force:
“Dahlias!”
“And their initial letters spell ‘DEATH,’ explained Miss Marple.
“But the letter came to Dr. Rosen himself,” objected Sir Henry.
“That was the clever part of it,” said Miss Marple. “That and the warning in it. What would he do, getting a letterfrom someone he didn’t know, full of names he didn’t know. Why, of course, toss it over to his secretary.”
“Then, after all—”
“Oh, no!” said Miss Marple. “Not the secretary. Why, that’s what makes it so perfectly clear that it wasn’t him.
He’d never have let that letter be found if so. And equally he’d never have destroyed a letter to himself with a Germanstamp on it. Really, his innocence is—if you’ll allow me to use the word—just shining.”
“Then who—”
“Well, it seems almost certain—as certain as anything can be in this world. There was another person at thebreakfast table, and she would—quite naturally under the circumstances—put out her hand for the letter and read it.
And that would be that. You remember that she got a gardening catalogue by the same post—”
“Greta Rosen,” said Sir Henry, slowly. “Then her visit to me—”
“Gentlemen never see through these things,” said Miss Marple. “And I’m afraid they often think we old womenare—well, cats, to see things the way we do. But there it is. One does know a great deal about one’s own sex,unfortunately. I’ve no doubt there was a barrier between them. The young man felt a sudden inexplicable53 repulsion.
He suspected, purely54 through instinct, and couldn’t hide the suspicion. And I really think that the girl’s visit to youwas just pure spite. She was safe enough really; but she just went out of her way to fix your suspicions definitely onpoor Mr. Templeton. You weren’t nearly so sure about him until after her visit.”
“I’m sure it was nothing that she said—” began Sir Henry.
“Gentlemen,” said Miss Marple calmly, “never see through these things.”
“And that girl—” he stopped. “She commits a cold-blooded murder and gets off scot-free!”
“Oh! no, Sir Henry,” said Miss Marple. “Not scot-free. Neither you nor I believe that. Remember what you saidnot long ago. No. Greta Rosen will not escape punishment. To begin with, she must be in with a very queer set ofpeople—blackmailers and terrorists—associates who will do her no good, and will probably bring her to a miserableend. As you say, one mustn’t waste thoughts on the guilty—it’s the innocent who matter. Mr. Templeton, who I daresay will marry that German cousin, his tearing up her letter looks—well, it looks suspicious—using the word in quite adifferent sense from the one we’ve been using all the evening. A little as though he were afraid of the other girlnoticing or asking to see it? Yes, I think there must have been some little romance there. And then there’s Dobbs—though, as you say, I dare say it won’t matter much to him. His elevenses are probably all he thinks about. And thenthere’s that poor old Gertrud—the one who reminded me of Annie Poultny. Poor Annie Poultny. Fifty years’ faithfulservice and suspected of making away with Miss Lamb’s will, though nothing could be proved. Almost broke the poorcreature’s faithful heart; and then after she was dead it came to light in the secret drawer of the tea caddy where oldMiss Lamb had put it herself for safety. But too late then for poor Annie.
“That’s what worries me so about that poor old German woman. When one is old, one becomes embittered55 veryeasily. I felt much more sorry for her than for Mr. Templeton, who is young and good-looking and evidently afavourite with the ladies. You will write to her, won’t you, Sir Henry, and just tell her that her innocence is establishedbeyond doubt? Her dear old master dead, and she no doubt brooding and feeling herself suspected of .?.?. Oh! It won’tbear thinking about!”
“I will write, Miss Marple,” said Sir Henry. He looked at her curiously56. “You know, I shall never quite understandyou. Your outlook is always a different one from what I expect.”
“My outlook, I am afraid, is a very petty one,” said Miss Marple humbly57. “I hardly ever go out of St. Mary Mead58.”
“And yet you have solved what may be called an International mystery,” said Sir Henry. “For you have solved it. Iam convinced of that.”
Miss Marple blushed, then bridled59 a little.
“I was, I think, well educated for the standard of my day. My sister and I had a German governess—a Fr?ulein. Avery sentimental60 creature. She taught us the language of flowers—a forgotten study nowadays, but most charming. Ayellow tulip, for instance, means Hopeless Love, whilst a China Aster26 means I die of Jealousy61 at your feet. That letterwas signed Georgine, which I seem to remember is Dahlia in German, and that of course made the whole thingperfectly clear. I wish I could remember the meaning of Dahlia, but alas62, that eludes63 me. My memory is not what itwas.”
“At any rate it didn’t mean DEATH.”
“No, indeed. Horrible, is it not? There are very sad things in the world.”
“There are,” said Mrs. Bantry with a sigh. “It’s lucky one has flowers and one’s friends.”
“She puts us last, you observe,” said Dr. Lloyd.
“A man used to send me purple orchids64 every night to the theatre,” said Jane dreamily.
“‘I await your favours,’—that’s what that means,” said Miss Marple brightly.
Sir Henry gave a peculiar sort of cough and turned his head away.
Miss Marple gave a sudden exclamation65.
“I’ve remembered. Dahlias mean ‘Treachery and Misrepresentation.’”
“Wonderful,” said Sir Henry. “Absolutely wonderful.”
And he sighed.
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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amiable
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heralded
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placidity
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shudders
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| n.颤动，打颤，战栗( shudder的名词复数 )v.战栗( shudder的第三人称单数 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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bungling
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platitude
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guilt
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innocence
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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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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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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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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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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alterations
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| n.改动( alteration的名词复数 )；更改；变化；改变 | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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corroborate
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| v.支持，证实，确定 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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aster
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| n.紫菀属植物 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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immunity
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| n.优惠；免除；豁免，豁免权 | |
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perfidy
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| n.背信弃义，不忠贞 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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meticulous
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| adj.极其仔细的，一丝不苟的 | |
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stationery
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| n.文具；(配套的)信笺信封 | |
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daydream
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| v.做白日梦，幻想 | |
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traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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blighting
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| 使凋萎( blight的现在分词 )； 使颓丧； 损害； 妨害 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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crux
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| adj.十字形；难事，关键，最重要点 | |
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distractions
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| n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 )；娱乐，消遣；心烦意乱；精神错乱 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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despondently
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| adv.沮丧地，意志消沉地 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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decorative
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| adj.装饰的，可作装饰的 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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mead
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| n.蜂蜜酒 | |
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bridled
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的过去式和过去分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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eludes
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的第三人称单数 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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orchids
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| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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