I went down to the Crooked1 House (as I called it in my own mind) with aslightly guilty feeling. Though I had repeated to Taverner Josephine’s con-fidences about Roger, I had said nothing about her statement that Brendaand Laurence Brown wrote love letters to each other.
I excused myself by pretending that it was mere2 romancing, and thatthere was no reason to believe that it was true. But actually I had felt astrange reluctance3 to pile up additional evidence against Brenda Leonides.
I had been affected4 by the pathos5 of her position in the house—surroun-ded by a hostile family united solidly against her. If such letters existeddoubtless Taverner and his myrmidons would find them. I disliked to bethe means of bringing fresh suspicion on a woman in a difficult position.
Moreover, she had assured me solemnly that there was nothing of thatkind between her and Laurence and I felt more inclined to believe herthan to believe that malicious6 gnome7 Josephine. Had not Brenda said her-self that Josephine was “not all there?”
I stifled8 an uneasy certainty that Josephine was very much all there. I re-membered the intelligence of her beady black eyes.
I had rung up Sophia and asked if I might come down again.
“Please do, Charles.”
“How are things going?”
“I don’t know. All right. They keep on searching the house. What arethey looking for?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“We’re all getting very nervy. Come as soon as you can. I shall go crazyif I can’t talk to someone.”
I said I would come down straight away.
There was no one in sight as I drove up to the front door. I paid the taxiand it drove away. I felt uncertain whether to ring the bell or to walk in.
The front door was open.
As I stood there, hesitating, I heard a slight sound behind me. I turnedmy head sharply. Josephine, her face partially9 obscured by a very largeapple, was standing10 in the opening of the yew11 hedge looking at me.
As I turned my head, she turned away.
“Hallo, Josephine.”
She did not answer, but disappeared behind the hedge. I crossed thedrive and followed her. She was seated on the uncomfortable rustic12 benchby the goldfish pond swinging her legs to and fro and biting into herapple. Above its rosy13 circumference14 her eyes regarded me sombrely andwith what I could not but feel was hostility15.
“I’ve come down again, Josephine,” I said.
It was a feeble opening, but I found Josephine’s silence and her unblink-ing gaze rather unnerving.
With excellent strategic sense, she still did not reply.
“Is that a good apple?” I asked.
This time Josephine did condescend16 to reply. Her reply consisted of oneword.
“Woolly.”
“A pity,” I said. “I don’t like woolly apples.”
Josephine replied scornfully:
“Nobody does.”
“Why wouldn’t you speak to me when I said hallo?”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Why not?”
Josephine removed the apple from her face to assist in the clearness ofher denunciation.
“You went and sneaked17 to the police,” she said.
“Oh!” I was rather taken aback. “You mean—about—”
“About Uncle Roger.”
“But it’s all right, Josephine,” I assured her. “Quite all right. They knowhe didn’t do anything wrong—I mean, he hadn’t embezzled18 any money oranything of that kind.”
Josephine threw me an exasperated19 glance.
“How stupid you are.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t worrying about Uncle Roger. It’s simply that that’s not the wayto do detective work. Don’t you know that you never tell the police untilthe very end?”
“Oh, I see,” I said. “I’m sorry, Josephine. I’m really very sorry.”
“So you should be.” She added reproachfully: “I trusted you.”
I said I was sorry for the third time. Josephine appeared a little molli-fied. She took another couple of bites of apple.
“But the police would have been bound to find out about all this,” I said.
“You—I—we couldn’t have kept it a secret.”
“You mean because he’s going bankrupt?”
As usual Josephine was well informed.
“I suppose it will come to that.”
“They’re going to talk about it tonight,” said Josephine. “Father andMother and Uncle Roger and Aunt Edith. Aunt Edith would give him hermoney—only she hasn’t got it yet—but I don’t think father will. He says ifRoger has got in a jam he’s only got himself to blame and what’s the goodof throwing good money after bad, and Mother won’t hear of giving himany because she wants Father to put up the money for Edith Thompson.
Do you know about Edith Thompson? She was married, but she didn’t likeher husband. She was in love with a young man called Bywaters whocame off a ship and he went down a different street after the theatre andstabbed him in the back.”
I marvelled20 once more at the range and completeness of Josephine’sknowledge; and also at the dramatic sense which, only slightly obscuredby hazy21 pronouns, had presented all the salient facts in a nutshell.
“It sounds all right,” said Josephine, “but I don’t suppose the play will belike that at all. It will be like Jezebel again.” She sighed. “I wish I knew whythe dogs wouldn’t eat the palms of her hands.”
“Josephine,” I said. “You told me that you were almost sure who themurderer was?”
“Well?”
“Who is it?”
She gave me a look of scorn.
“I see,” I said. “Not till the last chapter? Not even if I promise not to tellInspector Taverner?”
“I want just a few more clues,” said Josephine.
“Anyway,” she added, throwing the core of the apple into the goldfishpool, “I wouldn’t tell you. If you’re anyone, you’re Watson.”
I stomached this insult.
“OK,” I said. “I’m Watson. But even Watson was given the data.”
“The what?”
“The facts. And then he made the wrong deductions22 from them.
Wouldn’t it be a lot of fun for you to see me making the wrong deduc-tions?”
For a moment Josephine was tempted23. Then she shook her head.
“No,” she said, and added: “Anyway, I’m not very keen on SherlockHolmes. It’s awfully24 old-fashioned. They drive about in dogcarts.”
“What about those letters?” I asked.
“What letters?”
“The letters you said Laurence Brown and Brenda wrote to each other.”
“I made that up,” said Josephine.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Yes, I did. I often make things up. It amuses me.”
I stared at her. She stared back.
“Look here, Josephine. I know a man at the British Museum who knowsa lot about the Bible. If I find out from him why the dogs didn’t eat thepalms of Jezebel’s hands, will you tell me about those letters?”
This time Josephine really hesitated.
Somewhere, not very far away, a twig25 snapped with a sharp crackingnoise. Josephine said flatly:
“No, I won’t.”
I accepted defeat. Rather late in the day, I remembered my father’s ad-vice.
“Oh well,” I said, “it’s only a game. Of course you don’t really know any-thing.”
Josephine’s eyes snapped, but she resisted the bait.
I got up. “I must go in now,” I said, “and find Sophia. Come along.”
“I shall stop here,” said Josephine.
“No, you won’t,” I said. “You’re coming in with me.”
Unceremoniously I yanked her to her feet. She seemed surprised and in-clined to protest, but yielded with a fairly good grace—partly, no doubt,because she wished to observe the reactions of the household to my pres-ence.
Why I was so anxious for her to accompany me I could not at that mo-ment have said. It only came to me as we were passing through the frontdoor.
It was because of the sudden snapping of a twig.

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收听单词发音

1
crooked
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adj.弯曲的;不诚实的,狡猾的,不正当的 | |
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2
mere
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adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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3
reluctance
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n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
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4
affected
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adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
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5
pathos
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n.哀婉,悲怆 | |
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6
malicious
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adj.有恶意的,心怀恶意的 | |
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7
gnome
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n.土地神;侏儒,地精 | |
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8
stifled
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(使)窒息, (使)窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 ); 镇压,遏制; 堵 | |
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9
partially
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adv.部分地,从某些方面讲 | |
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10
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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11
yew
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n.紫杉属树木 | |
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12
rustic
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adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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13
rosy
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adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
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14
circumference
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n.圆周,周长,圆周线 | |
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15
hostility
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n.敌对,敌意;抵制[pl.]交战,战争 | |
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16
condescend
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v.俯就,屈尊;堕落,丢丑 | |
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17
sneaked
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v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 );偷偷溜走;(儿童向成人)打小报告;告状 | |
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18
embezzled
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v.贪污,盗用(公款)( embezzle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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19
exasperated
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adj.恼怒的 | |
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20
marvelled
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v.惊奇,对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
hazy
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adj.有薄雾的,朦胧的;不肯定的,模糊的 | |
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22
deductions
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扣除( deduction的名词复数 ); 结论; 扣除的量; 推演 | |
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23
tempted
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v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
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24
awfully
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adv.可怕地,非常地,极端地 | |
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25
twig
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n.小树枝,嫩枝;v.理解 | |
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