Death on the Nile / Смерть на Ниле. Агата КристиЧитать онлайн книгу.

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>“And you've done so much in the time! Did you have lots of architects and things?”

      “Three.”

      Joanna picked up a string of pearls from the dressing-table.

      “I suppose these are real, aren't they, Linnet?”

      “Of course.”

      “Darling, they really are incredible. They must be worth the most fabulous sums!”

      “Rather vulgar, you think?”

      “No, not at all – just pure beauty. What are they worth?”

      “About fifty thousand.”

      “What a lovely lot of money! Aren't you afraid of having them stolen?”

      “No, I always wear them – and anyway they're insured.”

      “Let me wear them till dinner time, will you, darling? It would give me such a thrill.”

      Linnet laughed.

      “Of course, if you like.”

      “You know, Linnet, I really envy you. You've simply got everything. Here you are at twenty, with any amount of money, looks, superb health. You've even got brains! When are you twenty-one?”

      “Next June. I shall have a grand coming-of-age[2] party in London.”

      “And then are you going to marry Charles Windlesham? All the gossip writers are getting so excited about it. And he really is very devoted.” Linnet shrugged her shoulders.[3]

      “I don't know. I don't really want to marry anyone yet.”

      “Darling, how right you are! It's never quite the same afterward, is it?”

      The telephone called and Linnet went to it.

      “Yes? Yes?”

      The butler's voice answered her.

      “Miss de Bellefort is on the line. Shall I put her through?” “Bellefort? Oh, of course, yes, put her through.”

      “Hullo, is that Miss Ridgeway? Linnet!”

      “Jackie darling! I haven't heard anything of you for ages and ages![4]”

      “I know. It's awful. Linnet, I want to see you terribly.”

      “Darling, can't you come down here? My new toy. I'd love to show it to you.”

      “That's just what I want to do.”

      “Well, jump into a train or a car.”

      “Right, I will. A frightfully old two-seater. I bought it for fifteen pounds, and some days it goes beautifully. So long, my sweet.[5]”

      Linnet replaced the receiver.[6] She crossed back to Joanna.

      “That's my oldest friend, Jacqueline de Bellefort. We were together at a convent in Paris. She's had the most terribly bad luck. Her father was a French Count, her mother was American – a Southerner. The father went off with some woman, and her mother lost all her money in the Wall Street crash. Jackie was left absolutely broke. I don't know how she's managed to get along the last two years.”

      Joanna was polishing her nails.

      “Darling,” she drawled, “won't that be rather tiresome? If any misfortunes happen to my friends I always drop them at once! It sounds heartless, but it saves such a lot of trouble later! They always want to borrow money off you, or else they start a dressmaking business and you have to get the most terrible clothes from them.”

      “So if I lost all my money, you'd drop me tomorrow?”

      “Yes, darling, I would. You can't say I'm not honest about it! I only like successful people. And you'll find that's true of nearly everybody – only most people won't admit it. They just say that really they can't put up with Mary or Emily or Pamela any more! 'Her troubles have made her so bitter, poor dear!'[7]”

      “How awful you are, Joanna!”

      “I'm only on the make,[8] like everyone else.”

      “I'm not on the make!”

      “For obvious reasons! You don't have to be careful when American trustees pay you a vast allowance every quarter.”

      “And you're wrong about Jacqueline,” said Linnet. “She's not a sponge.[9] I've wanted to help her, but she won't let me. She's as proud as the devil.[10]”

      “Why's she in such a hurry to see you? I'll bet she wants something! You just wait and see.”

      “She sounded excited about something,” admitted Linnet. “Jackie always did get frightfully worked up over things.[11] She once stuck a penknife into someone![12]”

      “Darling, how thrilling!”

      “A boy who was teasing a dog. Jackie tried to get him to stop. He wouldn't. She pulled him and shook him but he was much stronger than she was, and at last she took out a penknife and put it right into him. There was the most awful row!”

      “I should think so. It sounds awful!”

      Linnet's maid entered the room. With a word of apology, she took down a dress from the wardrobe and went out of the room with it.

      “What's the matter with Marie?” asked Joanna. “She's been crying.”

      “Poor thing.[13] You know I told you she wanted to marry a man who has a job in Egypt. She didn't know much about him, so I thought I'd better make sure he was all right. It happened that he had a wife already – and three children.”

      “What a lot of enemies you must make, Linnet.”

      “Enemies?” Linnet looked surprised.

      Joanna nodded and helped herself to a cigarette.[14]

      “Enemies, my sweet. And you're so frightfully good at doing the right thing.[15]”

      Linnet laughed.

      “Why, I haven't got an enemy in the world!”

      Chapter 3

      Lord Windlesham sat under the cedar tree. His eyes rested on the graceful proportions of Wode Hall. But he wanted to see Linnet as mistress of Charltonbury, his own family seat – the girl with bright golden hair and a confident face…

      He felt very hopeful. That refusal of hers had not been at all a definite refusal. It was like a plea for time. Well, he could afford to wait a little.

      How amazingly suitable the whole thing was. It was certainly advisable that he should marry money, but he loved Linnet. He would have wanted to marry her even if she had been practically penniless. Only, fortunately, she was one of the richest girls in England.

      His mind played with attractive plans for the future. Charles Windlesham dreamed in the sun.

      Chapter 4

      It was four o'clock when the old little two-seater stopped in front of the mansion. A girl got out of it – a small slender creature with a mop of dark hair. She ran up the steps and rang the bell. A few minutes later she was brought into the drawing-room, and a butler said with the proper intonation, “Miss de Bellefort.”

      “Linnet!”

      “Jackie!”

      Windlesham stood a little aside, watching as this fiery little creature flung herself open-armed upon Linnet.

      “Lord Windlesham – Miss de Bellefort – my best friend.”

      A pretty child, he thought – not really pretty

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