Although Tuppence went to bed in an optimistic frame of mind, shesuffered a severe reaction in those waking hours of early dawn when hu-man morale1 sinks to its lowest.
On descending2 to breakfast, however, her spirits were raised by thesight of a letter sitting on her plate addressed in a painfully backhandedscript.
This was no communication from Douglas, Raymond or Cyril, or anyother of the camouflaged3 correspondence that arrived punctually for her,and which included this morning a brightly coloured Bonzo postcard witha scrawled4, “Sorry I haven’t written before. All well, Maudie,” on it.
Tuppence thrust this aside and opened the letter.
“Dear Patricia (it ran),
“Auntie Grace is, I am afraid, much worse today. The doc-tors do not actually say she is sinking, but I am afraid thatthere cannot be much hope. If you want to see her beforethe end I think it would be well to come today. If you willtake the 10:20 train to Yarrow, a friend will meet you withhis car.
“Shall look forward to seeing you again, dear, in spite ofthe melancholy5 reason.
“Yours ever,
“Penelope Playne.”
It was all Tuppence could do to restrain her jubilation6.
Good old Penny Plain!
With some difficulty she assumed a mourning expression—and sighedheavily as she laid the letter down.
To the two sympathetic listeners present, Mrs. O’Rourke and Miss Min-ton, she imparted the contents of the letter, and enlarged freely on the per-sonality of Aunt Gracie, her indomitable spirit, her indifference7 to airraids and danger, and her vanquishment by illness. Miss Minton tended tobe curious as to the exact nature of Aunt Gracie’s sufferings, and com-pared them interestedly with the diseases of her own cousin Selina. Tup-pence, hovering8 slightly between dropsy and diabetes9, found herselfslightly confused, but compromised on complications with the kidneys.
Mrs. O’Rourke displayed an avid10 interest as to whether Tuppence wouldbenefit pecuniarily11 by the old lady’s death and learned that dear Cyril hadalways been the old lady’s favourite grandnephew as well as being hergodson.
After breakfast, Tuppence rang up the tailor’s and cancelled a fitting of acoat and skirt for that afternoon, and then sought out Mrs. Perenna andexplained that she might be away from home for a night or two.
Mrs. Perenna expressed the usual conventional sentiments. She lookedtired this morning, and had an anxious harassed12 expression.
“Still no news of Mr. Meadowes,” she said. “It really is most odd, is itnot?”
“I’m sure he must have met with an accident,” sighed Mrs. Blenkensop.
“I always said so.”
“Oh, but surely, Mrs. Blenkensop, the accident would have been repor-ted by this time.”
“Well, what do you think?” asked Tuppence.
Mrs. Perenna shook her head.
“I really don’t know what to say. I quite agree that he can’t have goneaway of his own free will. He would have sent word by now.”
“It was always a most unjustified suggestion,” said Mrs. Blenkensopwarmly. “That horrid13 Major Bletchley started it. No, if it isn’t an accident,it must be loss of memory. I believe that is far more common than is gen-erally known, especially at times of stress like those we are living throughnow.”
Mrs. Perenna nodded her head. She pursed up her lips with rather adoubtful expression. She shot a quick look at Tuppence.
“You know, Mrs. Blenkensop,” she said, “we don’t know very muchabout Mr. Meadowes, do we?”
Tuppence said sharply: “What do you mean?”
“Oh, please, don’t take me up so sharply. I don’t believe it—not for aminute.”
“Don’t believe what?”
“This story that’s going round.”
“What story? I haven’t heard anything.”
“No—well—perhaps people wouldn’t tell you. I don’t really know how itstarted. I’ve an idea that Mr. Cayley mentioned it first. Of course he’srather a suspicious man, if you know what I mean?”
Tuppence contained herself with as much patience as possible.
“Please tell me,” she said.
“Well, it was just a suggestion, you know, that Mr. Meadowes might bean enemy agent—one of these dreadful Fifth Column people.”
Tuppence put all she could of an outraged14 Mrs. Blenkensop into her in-dignant:
“I never heard of such an absurd idea!”
“No. I don’t think there’s anything in it. But of course Mr. Meadoweswas seen about a good deal with that German boy—and I believe he askeda lot of questions about the chemical processes at the factory—and sopeople think that perhaps the two of them might have been working to-gether.”
Tuppence said:
“You don’t think there’s any doubt about Carl, do you, Mrs. Perenna?”
She saw a quick spasm15 distort the other woman’s face.
“I wish I could think it was not true.”
Tuppence said gently: “Poor Sheila. .?.?.”
Mrs. Perenna’s eyes flashed.
“Her heart’s broken, the poor child. Why should it be that way? Whycouldn’t it be someone else she set her heart upon?”
Tuppence shook her head.
“Things don’t happen that way.”
“You’re right.” The other spoke16 in a deep, bitter voice. “It’s got to be sor-row and bitterness and dust and ashes. It’s got to be the way things tearyou to pieces. .?.?. I’m sick of the cruelty—the unfairness of this world. I’dlike to smash it and break it—and let us all start again near to the earthand without these rules and laws and the tyranny of nation over nation.
I’d like—”
A cough interrupted her. A deep, throaty cough. Mrs. O’Rourke wasstanding in the doorway17, her vast bulk filling the aperture18 completely.
“Am I interrupting now?” she demanded.
Like a sponge across a slate19, all evidence of Mrs. Perenna’s outburst van-ished from her face—leaving in their wake only the mild worried face ofthe proprietress of a guesthouse whose guests were causing trouble.
“No, indeed, Mrs. O’Rourke,” she said. “We were just talking about whathad become of Mr. Meadowes. It’s amazing the police can find no trace ofhim.”
“Ah, the police!” said Mrs. O’Rourke in tones of easy contempt. “Whatgood would they be? No good at all, at all! Only fit for fining motorcars,and dropping on poor wretches20 who haven’t taken out their dog licences.”
“What’s your theory, Mrs. O’Rourke?” asked Tuppence.
“You’ll have been hearing the story that’s going about?”
“About his being a Fascist21 and an enemy agent—yes,” said Tuppencecoldly.
“It might be true now,” said Mrs. O’Rourke thoughtfully. “For there’sbeen something about the man that’s intrigued22 me from the beginning.
I’ve watched him, you know,” she smiled directly at Tuppence—and likeall Mrs. O’Rourke’s smiles it had a vaguely23 terrifying quality—the smile ofan ogress. “He’d not the look of a man who’d retired24 from business andhad nothing to do with himself. If I was backing my judgement, I’d say hecame here with a purpose.”
“And when the police got on his track he disappeared, is that it?” de-manded Tuppence.
“It might be so,” said Mrs. O’Rourke. “What’s your opinion, Mrs. Per-enna?”
“I don’t know,” sighed Mrs. Perenna. “It’s a most vexing25 thing to happen.
It makes so much talk.”
“Ah! Talk won’t hurt you. They’re happy now out there on the terracewondering and surmising26. They’ll have it in the end that the quiet, inof-fensive man was going to blow us all up in our beds with bombs.”
“You haven’t told us what you think?” said Tuppence.
Mrs. O’Rourke smiled, that same slow ferocious27 smile.
“I’m thinking that the man is safe somewhere—quite safe. .?.?.”
Tuppence thought:
“She might say that if she knew .?.?. but he isn’t where she thinks he is!”
She went up to her room to get ready. Betty Sprot came running out ofthe Cayleys’ bedroom with a smile of mischievous28 and impish glee on herface.
“What have you been up to, minx?” demanded Tuppence.
Betty gurgled:
“Goosey, goosey gander. .?.?.”
Tuppence chanted:
“Whither will you wander? Upstairs!” She snatched up Betty high overher head. “Downstairs!” She rolled her on the floor—At this minute Mrs. Sprot appeared and Betty was led off to be attiredfor her walk.
“Hide?” said Betty hopefully. “Hide?”
“You can’t play hide-and-seek now,” said Mrs. Sprot.
Tuppence went into her room, donned her hat (a nuisance having towear a hat — Tuppence Beresford never did — but Patricia Blenkensopwould certainly wear one, Tuppence felt).
Somebody, she noted29, had altered the position of the hats in her hat cup-board. Had someone been searching her room? Well, let them. Theywouldn’t find anything to cast doubt on blameless Mrs. Blenkensop.
She left Penelope Playne’s letter artistically30 on the dressing31 table andwent downstairs and out of the house.
It was ten o’clock as she turned out of the gate. Plenty of time. Shelooked up at the sky, and in doing so stepped into a dark puddle32 by thegatepost, but without apparently33 noticing it she went on.
Her heart was dancing wildly. Success—success—they were going tosucceed.
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收听单词发音
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1
morale
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| n.道德准则，士气，斗志 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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camouflaged
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| v.隐蔽( camouflage的过去式和过去分词 )；掩盖；伪装，掩饰 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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jubilation
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| n.欢庆，喜悦 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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8
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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diabetes
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| n.糖尿病 | |
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avid
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| adj.热心的；贪婪的；渴望的；劲头十足的 | |
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pecuniarily
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| adv.在金钱上，在金钱方面 | |
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harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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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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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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fascist
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| adj.法西斯主义的；法西斯党的；n.法西斯主义者，法西斯分子 | |
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intrigued
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| adj.好奇的，被迷住了的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的过去式)；激起…的兴趣或好奇心；“intrigue”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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vexing
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| adj.使人烦恼的，使人恼火的v.使烦恼( vex的现在分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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surmising
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的现在分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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artistically
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| adv.艺术性地 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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