Убийство Роджера Экройда
Dinner at Fernly
""Hewaspoisoned,"saidAckroyd.
Hespokeinadullheavyvolce"Whoby?"Iaskedsharply"Hiswife.""Howdoyouknowthat?"""Shetoldmesoherself.""When?""Yesterday!MyGod!yesterday!Itseemstenyearsago."Iwaitedaminute,thenhewenton.
"Youunderstand,SheppardI’mtellmgyouthisinconfidence.
It’stogonofurtther–1wantyouradvice–Ican’tcarrythewholeweightbymyself–Aslsaidyou,Idon’tknowwhattodo.""Canyoutellmethewholestory?"Isaid."I’mstillinthedark.HowdidMrs.Ferrarscometomakethisconfessiontoyou?""It’slikethis.ThreemonthsagoIaskedMrs.Ferrarstomarryme.Sherefused.Iaskedheragainandsheconsented,butsherefusedtoallowmetomaketheengagementpublicuntilheryearofmourningwasup.YesterdayIcalleduponher,pointedoutthatayearandthreeweekshadnowelapsedsinceherhusband’sdeath,andthattherecouldbenofurtherobjectiontomakingtheengagementpublicproperty.
Ihadnoticedthatshehadbeenverystrangeinhermannerforsomedays.Now,suddenly,withouttheleastwarning,shebrokedowncompletely.She–shetoldmeeverything.Herhatredofherbruteofahusband,hergrowingloveforme,andthe–thedreadfulmeansshehadtaken.Poison!MyGod!Itwasmurderincoldblood."Isawtherepulsion,thehorror,inAckroyd’sface.SoMrs.Ferrarsmusthaveseenit.Ackroyd’sisnotthetypeofthegreatloverwhocanforgiveallforlove’ssake.
