The Moving Finger by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online Page A

stick up for his wife. Dick would.” She paused and then explained:
    “You see, I've known Dick Symmington a long time.”
    “Really?” I said surprised. “I understood from your brother that he only bought this practice a few years ago.”
    “Yes, but Dick Symmington used to come and stay in our part of the world up north. I've known him for years.”
    I looked at Aimйe curiously. She went on, still in that softened tone, “I know Dick very well... He's a proud man and very reserved. But he's the sort of man who could be very jealous.”
    “That would explain,” I said deliberately, “why Mrs. Symmington was afraid to show him or tell him about the letter. She was afraid that, being a jealous man, he might not believe her denials.”
    Miss Griffith looked at me angrily and scornfully. “Good Lord,” she said.
    “Do you think any woman would go and swallow a lot of cyanide of potassium for an accusation that wasn't true?”
    “The coroner seemed to think it was possible. Your brother, too -”
    Aimйe interrupted me:
    “Men are all alike. All for preserving the decencies. But you don't catch me believing that stuff. If an innocent woman gets some foul anonymous letter, she laughs and chucks it away. That's what I -” she paused suddenly, and then finished - “would do.”
    But I had noticed the pause. I was almost sure that what she had been about to say was, “That's what I did.”
    I decided to take the war into the enemy's country.
    “I see,” I said pleasantly. “So you've had one, too?”
    Aimйe Griffith was the type of woman who scorns to lie.
    She paused a minute - flushed, then said, “Well, yes. But I didn't let it worry me!”
    “Nasty?” I inquired sympathetically, as a fellow sufferer.
    “Naturally. These things always are. The ravings of a lunatic! I read a few words of it, realized what it was and chucked it straight into the wastepaper basket.”
    “You didn't think of taking it to the police?”
    “Not then. Least said soonest mended - that's what I felt.”
    An urge came over me to say solemnly, “No smoke without fire!” but I restrained myself.
    I asked her if she had any idea how her mother's death would affect Megan financially. Would it be necessary for the girl to earn her own living?
    “I believe she has a small income left her by her grandmother and of course Dick would always give her a home. But it would be much better for her to do something - not just slack about the way she does.”
    “I should have said Megan is at the age when a girl wants to enjoy herself - not to work.”
    Aimйe flushed and said sharply, “You're like all men - you dislike the idea of women competing. It is incredible to you that women should want a career. It was incredible to my parents. I was anxious to study for a doctor. They would not hear of paying the fees. But they paid them readily for Owen. Yet I should have made a better doctor than my brother.”
    “I'm sorry about that,” I said. “It was tough on you. If one wants to do a thing -”
    She went on quickly.
    “Oh, I've got over it now. I've plenty of willpower. My life is busy and active. I'm one of the happiest people in Lymstock. Plenty to do. But I go up in arms against the silly old-fashioned prejudice that woman's place is always the home.”
    “I'm sorry if I offended you,” I said. I had had no idea that Aimйe Griffith could be so vehement.

The Moving Finger

Chapter 3
    I met Symmington in the town later in the day.
    “Is it quite all right for Megan to stay on with us for a bit?” I asked. “It's company for Joanna - she's rather lonely sometimes with none of her own friends.”
    “Oh - er - Megan? Oh, yes, very good of you.”
    I took a dislike to Symmington then which I never quite overcame. He had so obviously forgotten all about Megan. I wouldn't have minded if he had actively disliked the girl - a man may sometimes be jealous of a first husband's child - but he didn't dislike her, he just hardly noticed