Убийство Роджера Экройда
The Goldfish Pond
Sittingthereonehadasplendidviewoverthecountryside,andonelookedrightdownonthepavedrecessandthegoldfishpond.
"Englandisverybeautiful,"saidPoirot,hiseyesstrayingovertheprospect.Thenhesmiled."AndsoareEnglishgirls,"hesaidinalowervoice."Hush,myfriend,andlookattheprettypicturebelowus."ItwasthenthatIsawFlora.Shewasmovingalongthepathwehadjustleftandshewashummingalittlesnatchofsong.Herstepwasmoredancingthanwalking,and,inspiteofherblackdress,therewasnothingbutjoyinherwholeattitude.Shegaveasuddenpirouetteonhertoes,andherblackdraperiesswungout.Atthesametimesheflungherheadbackandlaughedoutright.
Asshedidsoamansteppedoutfromthetrees.ItwasHectorBlunt.
Thegirlstarted.Herexpressionchangedalittle.
"Howyoustartledme–Ididn’tseeyou."Bluntsaidnothing,butstoodlookingatherforaminuteortwoinsilence.
"WhatIlikeaboutyou,"saidFlora,withatouchofmalice,"isyourcheeryconversation."IfancythatatthatBluntreddenedunderhistan.Hisvoice,whenhespoke,soundeddifferent–ithadacurioussortofhumilityinit.
"Neverwasmuchofafellowfortalking.NotevenwhenIwasyoung.""Thatwasaverylongtimeago,Isuppose,"saidFloragravely.
Icaughttheundercurrentoflaughterinhervoice,butIdon’tthinkBluntdid.
