The Mystery of the Blue Train by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online Page B

sigh, and the doctor rose preparatory to starting on his rounds.
    â€œYou might look in on her, Polly,” he suggested.
    â€œI’m going to,” said Mrs. Harrison, promptly.
    She made her call about three o’clock.
    â€œMy dear, I’m so glad,” she said warmly, as she squeezed Katherine’s hand. “And everyone in the village will be glad too.”
    â€œIt’s very nice of you to come and tell me,” said Katherine. “I hoped you would come in because I wanted to ask about Johnnie.”
    â€œOh! Johnnie. Well—”
    Johnnie was Mrs. Harrison’s youngest son. In another minute she was off, retailing a long history in which Johnnie’s adenoids and tonsils bulked largely. Katherine listened sympathetically. Habits die hard. Listening had been her portion for ten years now. “My dear, I wonder if I ever told you about the naval ball at Portsmouth? When Lord Charles admired my gown?” And composedly, kindly, Katherine would reply: “I rather think you have, Mrs. Harfield, but I’ve forgotten about it. Won’t you tell it me again?” And then the old lady would start off full swing, with numerous corrections, and stops, and remembered details. And half of Katherine’s mind would be listening, saying the right things mechanically when the old lady paused. . . .
    Now, with the same curious feeling of duality to which she was accustomed, she listened to Mrs. Harrison.
    At the end of half an hour, the latter recalled herself suddenly.
    â€œI’ve been talking about myself all this time,” she exclaimed. “And I came here to talk about you and your plans.”
    â€œI don’t know that I’ve got any yet.”
    â€œMy dear—you’re not going to stay on here. ”
    Katherine smiled at the horror in the other’s tone.
    â€œNo; I think I want to travel. I’ve never seen much of the world, you know.”
    â€œI should think not. It must have been an awful life for you cooped up here all these years.”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Katherine. “It gave me a lot of freedom.”
    She caught the other’s gasp, and reddened a little.
    â€œIt must sound foolish—saying that. Of course, I hadn’t much freedom in the downright physical sense—”
    â€œI should think not,” breathed Mrs. Harrison, remembering that Katherine had seldom had that useful thing, a “day off.”
    â€œBut in a way, being tied physically gives you lots of scope mentally. You’re always free to think. I’ve had a lovely feeling always of mental freedom.”
    Mrs. Harrison shook her head.
    â€œI can’t understand that.”
    â€œOh! you would if you’d been in my place. But, all the same, I feel I want a change. I want—well, I want things to happen. Oh! not to me—I don’t mean that. But to be in the midst of things—exciting things—even if I’m only the looker-on. You know, things don’t happen in St. Mary Mead.”
    â€œThey don’t indeed,” said Mrs. Harrison, with fervour.
    â€œI shall go to London first,” said Katherine. “I have to see the solicitors, anyway. After that, I shall go abroad, I think.”
    â€œVery nice.”
    â€œBut of course, first of all—”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI must get some clothes.”
    â€œExactly what I said to Arthur this morning,” cried the doctor’s wife. “You know, Katherine, you could look possibly positively beautiful if you tried.”
    Miss Grey laughed unaffectedly.
    â€œOh! I don’t think you could ever make a beauty out of me,” she said sincerely. “But I shall enjoy having some really good clothes. I’m afraid I’m talking about myself an awful lot.”
    Mrs. Harrison looked at her shrewdly.
    â€œIt must be quite a novel experience for you,” she said drily.
    Katherine went