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Four
MISS ARUNDELL WRITES A LETTER
It was Friday.
The relations had left.
They left on the Wednesday as originally planned. One and all, they had offered to stay on. Oneand all they had been steadfastly1 refused. Miss Arundell explained that she preferred to be “quitequiet.”
During the two days that had elapsed since their departure, Emily Arundell had been alarminglymeditative. Often she did not hear what Minnie Lawson said to her. She would stare at her andcurtly order her to begin all over again.
“It’s the shock, poor dear,” said Miss Lawson.
And she added with the kind of gloomy relish2 in disaster which brightens so many otherwisedrab lives:
“I daresay she’ll never be quite herself again.”
He told her that she’d be downstairs again by the end of the week, that it was a positive disgraceshe had no bones broken, and what kind of patient was she for a struggling medical man? If all hispatients were like her, he might as well take down his plate straight away.
Emily Arundell replied with spirit—she and old Dr. Grainger were allies of long-standing. Hebullied and she defied—they always got a good deal of pleasure out of each other’s company!
But now, after the doctor had stumped4 away, the old lady lay with a frown on her face, thinking— thinking — responding absentmindedly to Minnie Lawson’s well- meant fussing — and thensuddenly coming back to consciousness and rending5 her with a vitriolic6 tongue.
“Poor little Bobsie,” twittered Miss Lawson, bending over Bob who had a rug spread on thecorner of his mistress’s bed. “Wouldn’t little Bobsie be unhappy if he knew what he’d done to hispoor, poor Missus?”
Miss Arundell snapped:
“Don’t be idiotic7, Minnie. And where’s your English sense of justice? Don’t you know thateveryone in this country is accounted innocent until he or she is proved guilty?”
“Oh, but we do know—”
Emily snapped:
“We don’t know anything at all. Do stop fidgeting, Minnie. Pulling this and pulling that.
Haven’t you any idea how to behave in a sickroom? Go away and send Ellen to me.”
Emily Arundell looked after her with a slight feeling of self-reproach. Maddening as Minniewas, she did her best.
Then the frown settled down again on her face.
She was desperately9 unhappy. She had all a vigorous strong- minded old lady’s dislike ofinaction in any given situation. But in this particular situation she could not decide upon her line ofaction.
There were moments when she distrusted her own faculties10, her own memory of events. Andthere was no one, absolutely no one in whom she could confide11.
Half an hour later, when Miss Lawson tiptoed creakingly into the room, carrying a cup of beeftea, and then paused irresolute12 at the view of her employer lying with closed eyes, Emily Arundellsuddenly spoke13 two words with such force and decision that Miss Lawson nearly dropped the cup.
“Mary Fox,” said Miss Arundell.
“A box, dear?” said Miss Lawson. “Did you say you wanted a box?”
“You’re getting deaf, Minnie. I didn’t say anything about a box. I said Mary Fox. The woman Imet at Cheltenham last year. She was the sister of one of the Canons of Exeter Cathedral. Give methat cup. You’ve spilt it into the saucer. And don’t tiptoe when you come into a room. You don’tknow how irritating it is. Now go downstairs and get me the London telephone book.”
“Can I find the number for you, dear? Or the address?”
“If I’d wanted you to do that I’d have told you so. Do what I tell you. Bring it here, and put mywriting things by the bed.”
Miss Lawson obeyed orders.
As she was going out of the room after having done everything required of her, Emily Arundellsaid unexpectedly:
“You’re a good, faithful creature, Minnie. Don’t mind my bark. It’s a good deal worse than mybite. You’re very patient and good to me.”
Miss Lawson went out of the room with her face pink and incoherent words burbling from herlips.
Sitting up in bed, Miss Arundell wrote a letter. She wrote it slowly and carefully, withnumerous pauses for thought and copious14 underlining. She crossed and recrossed the page—forshe had been brought up in a school that was taught never to waste notepaper. Finally, with a sighof satisfaction, she signed her name and put it into an envelope. She wrote a name upon theenvelope. Then she took a fresh sheet of paper. This time she made a rough draft and after havingreread it and made certain alterations15 and erasures, she wrote out a fair copy. She read the wholething through very carefully, then satisfied that she had expressed her meaning she enclosed it inan envelope and addressed it to William Purvis, Esq., Messrs Purvis, Purvis, Charlesworth andPurvis, Solicitors16, Harchester.
She took up the first envelope again, which was addressed to M. Hercule Poirot, and opened thetelephone directory. Having found the address she added it.
A tap sounded at the door.
Miss Arundell hastily thrust the letter she had just finished addressing—the letter to HerculePoirot—inside the flap of her writing case.
She had no intention of rousing Minnie’s curiosity. Minnie was a great deal too inquisitive17.
She called “Come in” and lay back on her pillows with a sigh of relief.
She had taken steps to deal with the situation.
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