They Do It With Mirrors Read Online Free PDF Page B

people she did not doubt for a moment. It might have irritated some women, but not Carrie Louise.
    Lewis Serrocold sorted out another letter.
    â€œAt any rate we’ve some good news. This is from the Wiltshire and Somerset Bank. Young Morris is doing extremely well. They’re thoroughly satisfied with him and, in fact, are promoting him next month. I always knew that all he needed was responsibility—that, and a thorough grasp of the handling of money and what it means.”
    He turned to Miss Marple.
    â€œHalf these boys don’t know what money is. It represents to them going to the pictures or to the dogs, or buying cigarettes—and they’re clever with figures and find it exciting to juggle them round. Well, I believe in—what shall I say?—rubbing their noses in the stuff—train them in accountancy, in figures—show them the whole inner romance of money, so to speak. Give them skill andthen responsibility—let them handle it officially. Our greatest successes have been that way—only two out of thirty-eight have let us down. One’s head cashier in a firm of druggists—a really responsible position—”
    He broke off to say: “Tea’s in, dearest,” to his wife.
    â€œI thought we were having it here. I told Jolly.”
    â€œNo, it’s in the Hall. The others are there.”
    â€œI thought they were all going to be out.”
    Carrie Louise linked her arm through Miss Marple’s and they went into the Great Hall. Tea seemed a rather incongruous meal in its surroundings. The tea things were piled haphazard on a tray—while utility cups mixed with the remnants of what had been Rockingham and Spode tea services. There was a loaf of bread, two pots of jam, and some cheap and unwholesome-looking cakes.
    A plump middle-aged woman with grey hair sat behind the tea table and Mrs. Serrocold said:
    â€œThis is Mildred, Jane. My daughter Mildred. You haven’t seen her since she was a tiny girl.”
    Mildred Strete was the person most in tune with the house that Miss Marple had so far seen. She looked prosperous and dignified. She had married late in her thirties a Canon of the Church of England and was now a widow. She looked exactly like a Canon’s widow, respectable and slightly dull. She was a plain woman with a large unexpressive face and dull eyes. She had been, Miss Marple reflected, a very plain little girl.
    â€œAnd this is Wally Hudd—Gina’s husband.”
    Wally was a big young man, with hair brushed up on his head and a sulky expression. He nodded awkwardly and went on cramming cake into his mouth.
    Presently Gina came in with Stephen Restarick. They were both very animated.
    â€œGina’s got a wonderful idea for that backcloth,” said Stephen. “You know, Gina, you’ve got a very definite flair for theatrical designing.”
    Gina laughed and looked pleased. Edgar Lawson came in and sat down by Lewis Serrocold. When Gina spoke to him, he made a pretence of not answering.
    Miss Marple found it all a little bewildering and was glad to go to her room and lie down after tea.
    There were more people still at dinner, a young Doctor Maverick who was either a psychiatrist or a psychologist—Miss Marple was rather hazy about the difference—and whose conversation, dealing almost entirely with the jargon of his trade, was practically unintelligible to her. There were also two spectacled young men who held posts on the teaching side and a Mr. Baumgarten who was an occupational therapist and three intensely bashful youths who were doing their “house guest” week. One of them, a fair-haired lad with very blue eyes was, Gina informed her in a whisper, the expert with the “cosh.”
    The meal was not a particularly appetizing one. It was indifferently cooked and indifferently served. A variety of costumes was worn. Miss Bellever wore a high black dress, Mildred Strete wore an evening