The Secret Adversary Agatha Christie (books to read to get smarter TXT) đ
- Author: Agatha Christie
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Tommy came to himself with a start.
âIâm taking up your time, sir,â he said with an effort. âThereâs no need for you to blame yourself. I dare say we were a couple of young fools to take on such a job. You warned us all right. But I wish to God Iâd been the one to get it in the neck. Goodbye, sir.â
Back at the Ritz, Tommy packed up his few belongings mechanically, his thoughts far away. He was still bewildered by the introduction of tragedy into his cheerful commonplace existence. What fun they had had together, he and Tuppence! And nowâ âoh, he couldnât believe itâ âit couldnât be true! Tuppenceâ âdead! Little Tuppence, brimming over with life! It was a dream, a horrible dream. Nothing more.
They brought him a note, a few kind words of sympathy from Peel Edgerton, who had read the news in the paper. (There had been a large headline: Ex-V.A.D. Feared Drowned.) The letter ended with the offer of a post on a ranch in the Argentine, where Sir James had considerable interests.
âKind old beggar,â muttered Tommy, as he flung it aside.
The door opened, and Julius burst in with his usual violence. He held an open newspaper in his hand.
âSay, whatâs all this? They seem to have got some fool idea about Tuppence.â
âItâs true,â said Tommy quietly.
âYou mean theyâve done her in?â
Tommy nodded.
âI suppose when they got the treaty sheâ âwasnât any good to them any longer, and they were afraid to let her go.â
âWell, Iâm darned!â said Julius. âLittle Tuppence. She sure was the pluckiest little girlâ ââ
But suddenly something seemed to crack in Tommyâs brain. He rose to his feet.
âOh, get out! You donât really care, damn you! You asked her to marry you in your rotten cold-blooded way, but I loved her. Iâd have given the soul out of my body to save her from harm. Iâd have stood by without a word and let her marry you, because you could have given her the sort of time she ought to have had, and I was only a poor devil without a penny to bless himself with. But it wouldnât have been because I didnât care!â
âSee here,â began Julius temperately.
âOh, go to the devil! I canât stand your coming here and talking about âlittle Tuppence.â Go and look after your cousin. Tuppence is my girl! Iâve always loved her, from the time we played together as kids. We grew up and it was just the same. I shall never forget when I was in hospital, and she came in in that ridiculous cap and apron! It was like a miracle to see the girl I loved turn up in a nurseâs kitâ ââ
But Julius interrupted him.
âA nurseâs kit! Gee whiz! I must be going to Colney Hatch! I could swear Iâve seen Jane in a nurseâs cap too. And thatâs plumb impossible! No, by gum, Iâve got it! It was her I saw talking to Whittington at that nursing home in Bournemouth. She wasnât a patient there! She was a nurse!â
âI dare say,â said Tommy angrily, âsheâs probably been in with them from the start. I shouldnât wonder if she stole those papers from Danvers to begin with.â
âIâm darned if she did!â shouted Julius. âSheâs my cousin, and as patriotic a girl as ever stepped.â
âI donât care a damn what she is, but get out of here!â retorted Tommy also at the top of his voice.
The young men were on the point of coming to blows. But suddenly, with an almost magical abruptness, Juliusâs anger abated.
âAll right, son,â he said quietly, âIâm going. I donât blame you any for what youâve been saying. Itâs mighty lucky you did say it. Iâve been the most almighty blithering darned idiot that itâs possible to imagine. Calm downââ âTommy had made an impatient gestureâ ââIâm going right away nowâ âgoing to the London and North Western Railway depot, if you want to know.â
âI donât care a damn where youâre going,â growled Tommy.
As the door closed behind Julius, he returned to his suitcase.
âThatâs the lot,â he murmured, and rang the bell.
âTake my luggage down.â
âYes, sir. Going away, sir?â
âIâm going to the devil,â said Tommy, regardless of the menialâs feelings.
That functionary, however, merely replied respectfully:
âYes, sir. Shall I call a taxi?â
Tommy nodded.
Where was he going? He hadnât the faintest idea. Beyond a fixed determination to get even with Mr. Brown he had no plans. He reread Sir Jamesâs letter, and shook his head. Tuppence must be avenged. Still, it was kind of the old fellow.
âBetter answer it, I suppose.â He went across to the writing-table. With the usual perversity of bedroom stationery, there were innumerable envelopes and no paper. He rang. No one came. Tommy fumed at the delay. Then he remembered that there was a good supply in Juliusâs sitting-room. The American had announced his immediate departure, there would be no fear of running up against him. Besides, he wouldnât mind if he did. He was beginning to be rather ashamed of the things he had said. Old Julius had taken them jolly well. Heâd apologize if he found him there.
But the room was deserted. Tommy walked across to the writing-table, and opened the middle drawer. A photograph, carelessly thrust in face upwards, caught his eye. For a moment he stood rooted to the ground. Then he took it out, shut the drawer, walked slowly over to an armchair, and sat down still staring at the photograph in his hand.
What on earth was a photograph of the French girl Annette doing in Julius Hersheimmerâs writing-table?
XXII In Downing StreetThe Prime Minister tapped the desk in front of him with nervous fingers. His face was worn and harassed. He took up his conversation with Mr. Carter at the point it had broken off. âI donât understand,â he said. âDo you really mean that things are not so desperate after all?â
âSo this lad seems to think.â
âLetâs have
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