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

of relief from tension. Midge said, "We always had fir cones at Ainswick ...""I still do. A basket of them is brought in every day and put by the grate."Edward at Ainswick . . . Midge half closed her eyes, picturing it. He would sit, shethought, in the library, on the west side of the house. There was a magnolia thatalmost covered one window and which filled the room with a golden green light inthe afternoons. Through the other window you looked out on the lawn and a tallWellingtonia stood up like a sentinel. And to the right was the big copper beech,Oh, Ainswick--Ainswick . . . She could smell the soft air that drifted in from themagnolia which would still, in Sep- tember, have some great, white, sweetsmelling,waxy flowers on it ... And the pine cones on the fire . . . and a faintly mustysmell from the kind of book that Edward was sure to be reading ... He would besitting in the saddle-back chair, and occasionally, perhaps, his eyes would go from thebook to the fire, and he would think, just for a minute, of Henrietta . . . Midge stirredand asked: "Where is Henrietta?" "She went to the swimming pool." Midgestared. "Why?" Her voice, abrupt and deep, roused Edward a little. "Mydear Midge, surely you knew--oh, well--guessed. She knew Christow pretty well. ...""Oh, of course, one knew that! But I don't see why she should go mooning off to wherehe was shot. That's not at all like Henrietta. She's never melodramatic.""Do any of us know what anyone else is like? Henrietta, for instance. ..." Midgefrowned. She said: "After all, Edward, you and I have known Henrietta all ourlives." "She has changed." "Not really. I don't think one changes." "Henriettahas changed." Midge looked at him curiously. "More than we have, you and I?""Oh, I have stood still, I know that well enough. And you--" His eyes, suddenlyfocussing, looked at her where she knelt by the fender. It was as though he waslooking at her from a long way off, taking in the square chin, the dark eyes, theresolute mouth. He said: "I wish I saw you more often. Midge mydear." She smiled up at him. She said: "I know. It isn't easy, these days, to keeptouch." There was a sound outside and Edward got up. "Lucy was right," hesaid. "It has been a tiring day--one's first introduction to murder! I shall go to bed.Good night." He had left the room when Henrietta came through the window.Midge turned on her. "What have you done to Edward?" "Edward?" Henriettawas vague. Her forehead was puckered. She seemed to be thinking of somethingfar away. "Yes, Edward. He came in looking dreadful--so cold and grey.""If you care about Edward so much, Midge, why don't you do something abouthim?" "Do something? What do you mean?" "I don't know. Stand on a chair andshout! Draw attention to yourself. Don't you know that's the only hope with a manlike Edward?" "Edward will never care about anyone but you, Henrietta. Henever has." "Then it's very unintelligent of him." She threw a quick glance atMidge's white face. "I've hurt you. I'm sorry. But I hate Edward tonight--""Hate Edward? You can't . . ." "Oh, yes, I can! You don't know--" "What?"Henrietta said slowly: