Agatha Christie The Hollow Chapter I At 6:13 a.m. ... - bzelbublive.info

you've been there." "I know. ..." Why, she thought, had she let so long atime go by? One got busy--interested--tangled up with people . . . "You knowyou're always welcome there at any time." "How sweet you are, Edward!"Dear Edward, she thought, with his nice bones . . . He said presently: "I'm gladyou're fond of Ainswick, Henrietta." She said dreamily, "Ainswick is the loveliestplace in the world. ..." A long-legged girl, with a mane of untidybrown hair ... a happy girl with no idea at all of the things that life was going to do toher ... a girl who loved trees . . . To have been so happy and not to have known it!If I could go back, she thought. . . And aloud she said suddenly: "Is Ygdrasil stillthere?" "It was struck by lightning." "Oh, no, not Ygdrasil!" She wasdistressed. Ygdrasil--her own special name for the big oak tree. If the gods couldstrike down Ygdrasil, then nothing was safe! Better not go back . . . "Do youremember your special sign, the Ygdrasil sign?" Edward asked. "The funny treelike no tree that ever was I used to draw on bits of paper? I still do, Edward! Onblotters, and on telephonebooks, and on bridge scores. I doodle it all the time. Give me a pencil." Hehanded her a pencil and notebook, and laughing, she drew the ridiculous tree. "Yes,"he said, "that's Ygdrasil ..." They had come almost to the top of the path.Henrietta sat on a fallen tree trunk. Edward sat down beside her. She looked downthrough the trees. "It's a little like Ainswick here--a kind of pocket Ainswick. I'vesometimes wondered--Edward, do you think that that is why Lucy and Henrycame here?" "It's possible." "One never knows," said Henrietta slowly,"what goes on in Lucy's head." Then she asked, "What have you been doing withyourself, Edward, since I saw you last?""Nothing, Henrietta." "That sounds very peaceful." "I've never been very goodat--doing things." She threw him a quick glance. There had been something inhis tone. . . . But he was smiling at her quietly. And again she felt that rush of deepaffection. "Perhaps," she said, "you are wise." "Wise?" "Not to dothings ..." Edward said slowly, "That's an odd thing for you to say, Henrietta. You,who've been so successful." "Do you think of me as successful? How funny.""But you are, my dear. You're an artist. You must be proud of yourself--you can'thelp being." "I know," said Henrietta. "A lot of people ^y that to me. They don'tunderstand-- they don't understand the first thing about ^I You don't, Edward.Sculpture isn't a thing you set out to do and succeed in. It's a thing that gets at you,that nags at you— and haunts you—so that, sooner or later, you've got to maketerms with it. And then, for a bit, you get some peace—until the whole thing startsover again." "Do you want to be peaceful, Henrietta?" "Sometimes I think I wantto be peaceful more than anything in the world, Edward!" "You could be peacefulat Ainswick . . . I think you could be happy there. Even— even if you had to put upwith me. Whatabout it, Henrietta? Won't you come toAinswick and make it your home? It's always