Sad Cypress. Agatha Christie

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      The sufferer seemed relieved. The look of distress faded from that appealing eye. Elinor took her hand in hers and felt a feeble pressure from the fingers.

      Mrs Welman said with a great effort:

      ‘You—all—you…’

      Elinor said: ‘Yes, yes, leave it all to me. I will see that everything you want is done!’

      She felt the pressure of the fingers again. Then it relaxed. The eyelids drooped and closed.

      Dr Lord laid a hand on Elinor’s arm and drew her gently away out of the room. Nurse O’Brien resumed her seat near the bed.

      Outside on the landing Mary Gerrard was talking to Nurse Hopkins. She started forward.

      ‘Oh, Dr Lord, can I go in to her, please?’

      He nodded.

      ‘Keep quite quiet, though, and don’t disturb her.’

      Mary went into the sick-room.

      Dr Lord said:

      ‘Your train was late. You—’ He stopped.

      Elinor had turned her head to look after Mary. Suddenly she became aware of his abrupt silence. She turned her head and looked at him inquiringly. He was staring at her, a startled look in his face. The colour rose in Elinor’s cheeks.

      She said hurriedly:

      ‘I beg your pardon. What did you say?’

      Peter Lord said slowly:

      ‘What was I saying? I don’t remember. Miss Carlisle, you were splendid in there!’ He spoke warmly. ‘Quick to understand, reassuring, everything you should have been.’

      The very faintest of sniffs came from Nurse Hopkins.

      Elinor said:

      ‘Poor darling. It upset me terribly seeing her like that.’

      ‘Of course. But you didn’t show it. You must have great self-control.’

      Elinor said, her lips set very straight:

      ‘I’ve learnt not—to show my feelings.’

      The doctor said slowly:

      ‘All the same the mask’s bound to slip once in a while.’

      Nurse Hopkins had bustled into the bathroom. Elinor said, raising her delicate eyebrows and looking full at him:

      ‘The mask?’

      Dr Lord said:

      ‘The human face is, after all, nothing more nor less than a mask.’

      ‘And underneath?’

      ‘Underneath is the primitive human man or woman.’

      She turned away quickly and led the way downstairs.

      Peter Lord followed, puzzled and unwontedly serious.

      Roddy came out into the hall to meet them.

      ‘Well?’ he asked anxiously.

      Elinor said:

      ‘Poor darling. It’s very sad to see her… I shouldn’t go, Roddy—till—till—she asks for you.’

      Roddy asked:

      ‘Did she want anything—special?’

      Peter Lord said to Elinor:

      ‘I must be off now. There’s nothing more I can do for the moment. I’ll look in early tomorrow. Goodbye, Miss Carlisle. Don’t—don’t worry too much.’

      He held her hand in his for a moment or two. He had a strangely reassuring and comforting clasp. He looked at her, Elinor thought, rather oddly as though—as though he was sorry for her.

      As the door shut behind the doctor, Roddy repeated his question.

      Elinor said:

      ‘Aunt Laura is worried about—about certain business matters. I managed to pacify her and told her Mr Seddon would certainly come down tomorrow. We must telephone him first thing.’

      Roddy asked:

      ‘Does she want to make a new will?’

      Elinor answered:

      ‘She didn’t say so.’

      ‘What did she—?’

      He stopped in the middle of the question.

      Mary Gerrard was running down the stairs. She crossed the hall and disappeared through the door to the kitchen quarters.

      Elinor said in a harsh voice:

      ‘Yes? What is it you wanted to ask?’

      Roddy said vaguely:

      ‘I—what? I’ve forgotten what it was.’

      He was staring at the door through which Mary Gerrard had gone.

      Elinor’s hands closed. She could feel her long, pointed nails biting into the flesh of her palms.

      She thought:

      ‘I can’t bear it—I can’t bear it…it’s not imagination…it’s true… Roddy—Roddy I can’t lose you…’

      And she thought:

      ‘What did that man—the doctor—what did he see in my face upstairs? He saw something… Oh, God, how awful life is—to feel as I feel now. Say something, fool. Pull yourself together!’

      Aloud she said, in her calm voice:

      ‘About meals, Roddy. I’m not very hungry. I’ll sit with Aunt Laura and the nurses can both come down.’

      Roddy said in alarm:

      ‘And have dinner with me?’

      Elinor said coldly:

      ‘They won’t bite you!’

      ‘But what about you? You must have something. Why don’t we dine first, and let them come down afterwards?’

      Elinor said:

      ‘No, the other way’s better.’ She added wildly, ‘They’re so touchy, you know.’

      She thought:

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