Eternity Ring by Patricia Wentworth Read Free Book Online

happened because there was a quarrel, or someone was jealous, or got drunk and didn’t know what he was doing, or for money. Those are the sort of reasons why murders happen. But this one— well, you don’t only not know why it happened, but you don’t know whether it happened at all. It’s frightening—like seeing something and not knowing whether it’s really there and not being sure whether you even saw it.”
    In prim but rather pleasing tones Miss Silver quoted from Lady Macbeth, “ ‘They made themselves—air.’ ”
    Monica Abbott gazed at her with warmth.
    “Yes—that’s exactly what I mean. How clever you are!”
    Miss Silver smiled.
    “Tell me a little more about it all. A good deal seems to turn upon the character of this girl Mary Stokes. Of course that is always the way in any crime—a story which appears quite incredible in the mouth of one person can be accepted as perfectly natural from another. Now what sort of girl is this Miss Stokes?”
    Monica Abbott said slowly, “I—don’t—know—”
    Miss Silver gave her slight cough.
    “Do you not?”
    “Well, I’ve got nothing to go on. I don’t like her, but I oughtn’t to say so, because I’ve got nothing to go on. I can only tell you what you would see for yourself in five minutes. She’s about twenty-four or twenty-five, but she looks—experienced. She was in one of the women’s services at the end of the war. She hasn’t been very much in Deeping. Of course we’ve only been here ourselves for a few months. We used to pay short visits before my husband went abroad, but we didn’t belong.”
    “Does Mary Stokes belong?”
    “No, she doesn’t. The younger girls copy her clothes and the way she does her hair, but she isn’t liked—they think she gives herself airs.”
    “And does she?”
    “I suppose she does. Oh, I don’t know—I don’t think I’m being fair. You see, she isn’t a village girl at all—she’s something much smarter and more sophisticated. She comes down to the farm once in a way when she’s out of a job or wants a change. She isn’t strong and they’re good to her, but I think it’s a relief when she goes off again. She’s been working in an office in Lenton, but she got ill and was ordered a month’s rest. I believe the firm are taking her back.”
    “Is she pretty?”
    “Oh, yes!” said Monica Abbott in an exasperated tone.
    Half an inch of blue knitting now stood out from the needles in a frill. Gazing mildly across it, Miss Silver said,
    “In what way?”
    Monica laughed.
    “Oh, in the good old peroxide way that gentlemen prefer. No—that’s low of me. She probably assists it a little, but I believe her hair has always been fair. And she has blue eyes and synthetic manners.” She threw out her hand in an expressive gesture. “Look here, it’s no good—I don’t like her and I can’t be fair.”
    Miss Silver’s eyes dwelt upon her calmly.
    “Why do you not like her?”
    “I just don’t.”
    “But I think you could give me a reason if you would.”
    There was a moment’s pause. Then,
    “I think she’s a snake in the grass,” said Monica Abbott.
    “Dear me!”
    Miss Silver pulled at her pale blue ball, releasing a yard or two of the fleecy wool. She found Mrs. Abbott very picturesque, very attractive, but was more concerned with the matter of her judgment. She did not appear to be the sort of woman who would be hard upon a girl, but you never could tell. There might be reasons. She wondered whether it was possible that Mary Stokes had had anything to do with the break-up of Cicely Hathaway’s marriage.
    In a perfectly artless and natural manner she induced the conversation to drift in Cicely’s direction. Having first remarked upon the cosiness of the room and enquired whether the charming water-colour on the farther wall was a representation of Durham Cathedral, she turned to the portrait above the mantel-shelf.
    “Your daughter of course. A most speaking