The Three Evangelists Read Online Free PDF

walls, every noise echoing since there was very little furniture. The three tall windows overlooking the garden weremullioned. It was a little like the refectory of a monastery. Through a low door, also arched, Lucien was appearing from time to time, holding a wooden spoon. In a monastery one says everything, especially in the refectory, in a low voice.
    ‘Since he has told you, I don’t need to introduce myself,’ said Sophia.
    ‘Well, we should introduce ourselves though,’ said Marc, who was rather impressed. ‘This is Mathias Delamarre, and …’
    ‘That’s alright,’ Sophia cut him short. ‘It’s a bit embarrassing to say so, but I know who you are. You overhear a lot without meaning to between these two gardens.’
    ‘Without meaning to?’ asked Lucien.
    ‘Well, sometimes on purpose, it’s true. I have looked and listened, quite deliberately at times, I will admit.’
    She stopped. She wondered whether Mathias would understand that she had seen him from her little window.
    ‘I wasn’t spying on you. You just interested me. I thought I might be able to call on your help. What would you say if, one morning, a tree was planted in your garden, and you had had nothing to do with it?’
    ‘Frankly,’ said Lucien, ‘the state our garden is in, I doubt if we would notice.’
    ‘That’s not the point,’ said Marc. ‘You’re talking about that little beech tree, aren’t you?’
    ‘That’s right,’ said Sophia. ‘It just appeared one morning. Without a word from anyone. I don’t know who planted it. It wasn’t a present, so far as I can tell. And it wasn’t my gardener, because I haven’t got one at the moment.’
    ‘What does your husband have to say about it?’ asked Marc.
    ‘He’s not bothered about it. He’s a busy man.’
    ‘You mean he couldn’t give a damn?’ said Lucien.
    ‘Worse than that. He doesn’t want to hear me talk about it even. It irritates him.’
    ‘That’s odd,’ said Marc.
    Lucien and Mathias nodded their agreement.
    ‘You think that’s odd? Really?’ asked Sophia.
    ‘Yes, really,’ said Marc.
    ‘Me too,’ said Sophia softly.
    ‘Forgive my ignorance,’ said Marc, ‘but were you a very famous singer?’
    ‘No. Not in the top class. I had some success, but I was never known as La Siméonidis. No, if you think this was some kind of eccentric fan-mail, as my husband suggested, you are mistaken. I have had admirers, but I didn’t provoke any extravagant worshippers. Ask your friend Mathias, since he seems to know about it.’
    Mathias waved his hand vaguely. ‘You were more admired than you say, all the same,’ he said quietly.
    There was a silence. Lucien turned host and filled up the glasses.
    ‘The fact is,’ he said, pointing his spoon at Sophia, ‘you are scared. You’re not accusing your husband, you’re not accusing anyone, you don’t want even to think about it, but you are scared.’
    ‘I am certainly worried,’ Sophia said in a low voice.
    ‘Because a tree being planted,’ Lucien went on, ‘means earth. Earth underneath it. Earth that nobody will disturb because it has a tree growing out of it. It’s sealed-in earth. In other words, a grave. The problem is potentially interesting.’
    Lucien was not one to mince words; he spoke as he found. In this case, he had hit home.
    ‘Without going as far as that,’ said Sophia, still quietly, ‘let’s say, I would rather set my mind at rest about it. I’d rather know, if there is anything beneath the tree.’
    ‘Anything, or anyone,’ said Lucien. ‘Have you reason to suspect anyone? Your husband? Any dark doings? An importunate mistress?’
    ‘Lucien, that will do,’ said Marc. ‘No-one’s asking you to charge ahead like that. Madame Siméonidis came here to ask us about digging a hole, full stop. Let’s stick with her request, if you don’t mind. No need to stir up trouble without cause. For now it’s just a matter of digging up the tree – is that right?’
    ‘Yes,’ said