46
Agatha Christie
told me over the phone that he was sending Gerald along
with the car. It's awfully sporting of you to come. I've been
dying to meet you. Remember I haven't seen you since I
was six years old. I see you've got the necklace all right.
Shove it in your pocket again. The village policeman might
come along and see it. Brrr, it's cold as ice waiting here!
Let me get in."
As though in a dream Edward opened the door, and she
sprang lightly in beside him. Her furs swept his cheek, and
an elusive scent, like that of violets after rain, assailed his
nostrils.
He had no plan, no definite thought even. In a minute,
without conscious volition, he had yielded himself to the
adventure. She had called him Edward--what matter if he
were the wrong Edward? She would find him out soon
enough. In the meantime, let the game go on. He let in the
clutch and they glided off.
Presently the girl laughed. Her laugh was just as wonderful
as the rest of her.
"It's easy to see you don't know much about cars. I
suppose they don't have them out there?"
"I wonder where 'out there' is?" thought Edward. Aloud
he said, "Not much."
"Better let me drive," said the girl. "It's tricky work
finding your way round these lanes until we get on the main
road again."
He relinquished his place to her gladly. Presently they
were humming through the night at a pace and with a recklessness
that secretly appalled Edward. She turned her head
towards him. "I
like pace. Do you? You know--you're not a bit like
Gerald. No one would ever take you to be brothers. You're
not a bit like what I imagined, either."
"I suppose," said Edward, "that I'm so completely ordinary.
Is that it?"
"Not ordinary--different. I can't make you out. How's
poor old Jimmy? Very fed-up, I suppose?"
"Oh, $immy's all right," said Edward.
"It's easy enough to say that--but it's rough luck on
him having a sprained ankle. Did he tell you the whole
story?"
T£ M,NOOD OF ZWaD aOBSON' 47
"Not a word. I'm completely in c k. I ish you'd
enlighten me."
"Oh, the thing worked like a dream. Jimmy went in at
e ?om dr, togged up in his girl's clothes.
;
a mmu? or two, d en skied up to the wind,"7''
Lella s maid was the lavin out Aones',, ' · g
els, d all the rest. en there was a great yell qownsffs,
d e squib went off, d eveone shoumd fire. e maid
dhed out, and I hoped in, hel myself to th% necace,
d was out d down in a flash, d out of th nlace e
back .way across the nch Bowl. I shoved e ecace
d the notice whe to pick me up in the ke{ of the c
in passing. en I joined uise at the hotel, having shed
my snow , of course. Perfect alibi for me She'd no
idea I'd been out at all." '
"And what aut Jimmy?"
"Well, you ow more aut that an I do.',
"Well, in the general rag, he caught his ft in his s
d managed to sprain it. ey had to c him to the c,
d e Lellas' chauffeur drove him home. Jhst fancy if
· e chauffeur had hapn to put his hd in te pket"
wd laughed with her, but his mind wa busy. He
underst the sifion mo or less now. The name of
Llla was vaguely fili to himit was a name that
slt wealth. This girl, d unown m calted Jimmy,
had conspired together to steal e necklace, d had succeeded.
Owing to his sprained kle d e gresence of
the Lallas' chauffeur, Jimmy had not en ale to look
in the ket of the cfo telephoning to the girl
probably had had no wish to do so. But it was almost ceain
· at the other unknown "Gerald" would do so at any ely
opnunity. And in it, he would find wd' muffier
"Go going," said the girl.
A flashed past them, they were on the utskins of
ndon. %ey flashed in d out of the traffic, Edwd's
he stud in his mouth. She was a wondel river, this
girl, but she tk fisks
Queer of an hour later they drew up fore aa imsing
house in a frigid square.
"We can shed some of our cloing he," Sd t girl,
"fore we go on to Ritson's."
Agatha Christie
"Ritson's?' queried Edward. He mentioned the famous ghtclub almost reverently.
"Yes, didn't Gerald tell you?"
"He did not," said Edward grimly. "What about my
)thes?"
She frowned.
"Didn't they tell you anything? We'll rig you up some-
,w. We've got to carry this through."
A stately butler opened the door and stood aside to let
m enter.
"Mr. Gerald Champneys rang up, your ladyship. He was ry anxious to speak to you, but he wouldn't leave a mes-ge."
"I bet he was anxious to speak to her," said Edward to aself. "At any rate, I know my full name now. Edward
ampneys. But who is she? Your ladyship, they called
r. What does she want to steal a necklace for? Bridge
bts?"
In the magazine stories which he occasionally read, the autiful and titled heroine was always driven desperate by
[dge debts.
Edward was led away by the stately butler and delivered er to a smooth-mannered valet. A quarter of an hour later
rejoined his hostess in the hall, exquisitely attired in
ening clothes made in Savile Row which fitted him to a
ety.
Heavens! What a night!
They drove in the car to the famous Ritson's. It common th everyone else, Edward had read scandalous paragraphs
aceming Ritson's. Anyone who was anyone turned up at
tson's sooner or later. Edward's only fear was that some-e
who knew the real Edward Cbampneys might turn up.
, consoled himself by the reflection that the real man had
idently been out of England for some years.
Sitting at a little table against the wall, they sipped cock-Is. Cocktails! To the simple Edward they represented the
intessence of the fast life. The girl, wrapped in a won-rful
embroidered shawl, sipped nonchalantly. Suddenly
dropped the shawl from her shoulders and rose.
"Let's dance."
Now the one thing that Edward could do to perfection
THE MANHOOD OF EDWARD ROBINSON
was to dance. When he and Maud took the floor together at the Palais de Danse, lesser lights stood still and watched
in admiration.
"I nearly forgot," said the girl suddenly. "The necklace?"
She held out her hand. Edward, completely bewildered,
drew it from his pocket and gave it to her. To his utter
amazement, she coolly clasped it round her neck. Then she
smiled up at him intoxicatingly.
"Now," she said softly, "we'll dance."
They danced. And in all Ritson's nothing more perfect
could be seen.
Then, as at length they returned to their table, an old
gentleman with a would-be rakish air accosted Edward's
companion.
"Ah! Lady Noreen, always dancing! Yes, yes. Is Captain
Folliot here tonight?"
"Jimmy's taken a toss--racked his ankle."
"You don't say so? How did that happen?"
"No details as yet."
She laughed and passed on.
Edward followed, his brain in a whirl. He knew now.
Lady Noreen Elliot, the famous Lady Noreen herself, perhaps
the most talked-of girl in England. Celebrated for her
beauty, for her daring--the leader of that set known as the
Bright Young People. Her engagement to Captain James
Folliot, V.C., of the Household Cavalry, had been recently
announced.
But the necklace? He still couldn't understand the necklace.
He must risk giving himself away, but know he must.
As they sat down again, he pointed to it.
"Why that, Noreen?" he said. "Tell me why?"
She smiled dreamily, her eyes far away, the spell of the
dance still holding her.
"It's difficult for you to understand, I suppose. One gets
so tired to the same thing--always the same thing. Treasure
hunts were all very well for a while, but one gets used to
everything. 'Burglaries' were my idea. Fifty pounds' entrance
fee, and lots to be drawn. This is the third. Jimmy
and I drew Agnes Larella. You know the rules? Burglary
to be carried out within three days and the loot to be worn
for at least an hour in a public place, or you forfeit your
50 Aga[tha Christie
:tprakannishUannkleePu?nsd,fine. It's rough luck on Jim, my
,,l coo" i,,4 ..... , 'Xwe 11 scoop the pool all rieht'
....... r ,
.
·
see.
"Drive
me somewh
e pulhng her shawl round
her.
Somewhere horrible
and in .th.e c. D. own .to the d, ks.
- -4 exciting wait a minute
-- She
reacnea up anu
unctaspe . - ,.'
,
.
"You'd better take these al-el .the. u,an?,.onas iro,m tier neck.
,. cgaln.
uon t want to oe murdered
They
went out of Rits,
, .
.
........ ,on s together. ne car
stood in a
small dy-street,
mm0w a, .......
towards it, another car d
°OarK..as.mey to,
mea [he corner
man sprang out. -ew
up to the cum, anti
a
young
"Thank the Lord, Nor ,,
he cried. "There's the dex
.e,n' t ye g hula o.. you at last,
with
the wrong car; God ,
1 to pay; na.t, ass Jl,.mmy got off
......... acnows wnere muse aamonds are
at this mnute,
we
re in
1: , . ....
Lady Noreen
stared
at n,e. aevu ut a mess.
"What do you mean9
,nl,m. .
Edward has." ' 'ye we got the diamonas
at least
"Edward?"
"Yes." She might a Slight gesture to indicate
the figure
by her side.
It s I o am in the
q
.....
"Ten to one this is
brothel o,a, ,m, ess,
thought Edward.
The young man staredr
Jerala.
"What do you mean?" kat h!,m., ,
land." '
e
sam s
owly. "Edward's in Scot-
Her colour
came and ne stareu at r-,uwam. n!
"So
you," she said
in ye, nt. . ,,
It took
Edward just o lOW. voice, are roe. rem
thing?
-- .
ne minute to grasp the situation.
play up to
the end. ulan.
Nothing so tame. He
would
He bowed cerem0niotl., "I have to thank
you,
}a Y/
...........
hioh uavman
mannn, ,,i: aay
r oreen,
ne
sala
In
the
oest
....
'
' . t
at
the
car
from
which
th '
other
nau
just
angmeo.
Pt
scarl
w'
"'
'
t
car
lth
a
snlmng
nonnet
His
Car.
·
THE MANHOOD OF EDWARD ROBINSON
.. l
"And I will wish you good evening."
One quick spring and he was inside, his foot on the
clutch. The car s forward. Gerald stood paralyzed, but
the girl was quicker. As the car slid past, she leapt for it,
alighting on the running board.
The car swerved, shot blindly round the corner and pulled
up. Noreen, still panting from her spring, laid her hand on
Edward's arm.
"You must give it me--oh, you must give it me. I've
got to return it to Agnes Larella. Be a sport--we've had a
good evening together--we've danced--we've been-pals.
Won't you give it to me? To me?"
A woman who intoxicated you with her beauty. There
were such women then...
Also, Edward was only too anxious to get rid of the
necklace. It was a heaven-sent oppommity for a beau geste.
He took it from his pocket and dropped it into her outstretched
hand.
"We've been--pals," he said.
"Ah!" Her eyes smouldered--lit up.
Then surprisingly she bent her head to him. For a moment
he held her, her lips against his...
Then she jumped off. The scarlet car sPed forward with
a great leap.
Romance!
Adventure!
At twelve o'clock on Christmas Day, Edward Robinson
strode into the tiny drawing room of a house in Clapham,
with the customary greeting of "Merry Christmas."
Maud, who was rearranging a piece of holly, greeted
him coldly.
"Have a good day in the country with that friend of
yours?" she inquired.
"Look here," said Edward. "That was a lie I told you. I
won a competition--f.500, and I bought a car with it. I
didn't tell you because I knew you'd kick up a row about
it. That's the gu'st thing. I've bought the car and there's
nothing more to be said about it. The second thing is this--I'm
not going to hang about for years. My prospects are
52
Agatha Christie
quite good enough and I meafi to marry you next month. · See?"
"Oh!" Said Maud faintly.
Was this--could this be--Edward speaking in this masterful fashion?
"Will you?" said Edward. "Yes or no?"
She gazed at him, fascinated. There was awe and admiration in her eyes, and the sight of that look was intoxicating
to Edward. Gone was that patient motherliness which
had roused him to exasperation.
So had the Lady Noreen looked at him last night. But the Lady Noreen had receded far away, right into the region
of Romance, si
de by side with the Marchesa Bianca. This
was the Real Thing. This was his woman.
"Yes or no?" he repeated, and drew a step nearer.
"Ye--ye-es," faltered Maud. "But, oh, Edward, what has happened to you? You're quite different today."
"Yes," said Edward. "For twenty-four hours I've been a man instead of a worm--and, by God, it pays!"
He caught her in his arms almost as Bill the superman might have done.
"Do you love me, Maud? Tell me, do you love me?" "Oh, Edward!" breathed Maud. "I adore you .... "
Jane in Search of a Job
Jane Cleveland rustled the pages of the Daily Leader and sighed--a deep sigh that came from the innermost recesses
of her being. She looked with distaste at the marble-topped
table, the poached egg on toast which reposed on it, and
the small pot of tea. Not because she was not hungry. That
was far from being the case. Jane was extremely hungry.
At that moment she felt like consuming a pound and a half
of well-cooked beefsteak, with chip potatoes, and possibly
French beans. The whole washed down with some more
exciting vintage than tea.
But young women whose exchequers are in a parlous condition cannot be choosers. Jane was lucky to be able to
order a poached egg and a pot oftea. It seemed unlikely
that she would be able to do so tomorrow. That is unless--
She turned once more to the advertisement columns of the Daily Leader. To put it plainly, Jane was out of a job,
and the position was becoming acute. Already the genteel
lady who presided over the shabby boarding house was
looking askance at this particular young woman.
"And yet," said Jane to herself, throwing up her chin indignantly, which was a habit of hers, "and yet I'm intelligent
and good-looking and well-educated. What more does
anyone want?"
According to the Daily Leader, they seemed to want shorthand-typists of vast experience, managers for business
houses with a little capital to invest, ladies to share in the
profits of poultry fanning (here again a little capital was
required), and innumerable cooks, housemaids and par-lourmaids
-- particularly parlourmaids.
"I wouldn't mind being a parlourmaid," said Jane to