The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories

The two men were soon whole-heartedly engaged in their battle. Lady Marroway murmured to Evan Llewellyn: "Eve is not the only child in the party." Llewellyn smiled assent but somewhat absently. He had been absent-minded all that day. Once or twice his answers had been wide of the point. Pamela Marroway drew away from him and said to her husband: "That young man has something on his mind." Sir George murmured:

"Or someone?"

And his glance swept quickly over Janet Rust-ington.

Lady Marroway frowned a little. She was a tall woman exquisitely groomed. The scarlet of her fingernails was matched by the dark red coral studs in her ears. Her eyes were dark and watchful. Sir George affected a careless "hearty English gentleman" manner--but his bright blue eyes held the same watchful look as his wife's. Isaac Pointz and Leo Stein were Hat'ton Garden diamond merchants. Sir George and Lady Mar-roway came from a different world--the world of Antibes and Juan les Pins--of golf at St. JeandeLuz--of bathing from the rocks at Madeira in the winter. In outward seeming they were as the lilies that toiled not, neither did they spin. But perhaps this was not quite true. There are divers ways of toiling and also of spinning. "Here's the kid back again," said Evan Llewellyn to Mrs. Rustington. He was a dark young man--there was a faintly

6

Agatha Christie hungry wolfish look about him which some women found attractive. It was difficult to say whether Mrs. Rustington found him so. She did not wear her heart on her sleeve. She had married young--and the marriage had ended in disaster in less than a year. Since that time it was difficult to know what Janet Rusting-ton thought of anyone or anything--her manner was always the same--charming but completely aloof. Eve Leathern came dancing up to them, her lank fair hair bobbing excitedly. She was fifteen--an awkward child--but full of vitality. "I'm going to be married by the time I'm seventeen," she exclaimed breathlessly. "To a very rich man and we're going to have six children and Tuesdays and Thursdays are my lucky days and I ought always to wear green or blue and an emerald is my lucky stone and--" "Why, pet, I think we ought to be getting along," said her father. Mr. Leathern was a tall, fair, dyspeptic-looking man with a somewhat mournful expression. Mr. Pointz and Mr. Stein were turning away from the darts. Mr. Pointz was chuckling and Mr.

Stein was looking somewhat rueful. "It's all a matter of luck," he was saying. Mr. Pointz slapped his pocket cheerfully. "Took a river off you all right. Skill, my boy, skill. My old Dad was a first class dart player. Well, folks, let's be getting along. Had your fortune told, Eve? Did they tell you to beware of a dark man?" "A dark woman," corrected Eve. "She's got a

THE REGATTA MYSTERY

cast in her eye and she'll be real mean to me if I give her a chance. And I'm to be married by the time I'm seventeen..."

She ran on happily as the party steered its way to the Royal George.

Dinner had been ordered beforehand by the forethought of Mr. Pointz and a bowing waiter led them upstairs and into a private room on the

first floor. Here a round table was ready laid. The

big bulging bow-window opened on the harbor square and was open. The noise of the fair came up to them, and the raucous squeal of three roundabouts each blaring a different tune.

"Best shut that if we're to hear ourselves speak," observed Mr. Pointz drily, and suited the action to the word.

They took their seats round the table and Mr. Pointz beamed affectionately at his guests. He felt he was doing them well and he liked to do people well. His eye rested on one after another. Lady Marroway--fine woman--not quite the goods, of course, he knew thatwhe was perfectly well aware that what he had called all his life the crrne de ia crrne would have very little to do with the Mar~ roways--but then the crrne de la crrne were supremely unaware of his own existence. Anyway, Lady Marroway was a damned smart-looking woman--and he didn't mind if she did rook him a bit at Bridge. Didn't enjoy it quite so much from Sir George. Fishy eye the fellow had. Brazenly on the make. But he wouldn't make too much out of Isaac Pointz. He'd see to that all right.

Old Leathern wasn't a bad fellow--longwinded, of course, like most Americans--fond of telling

8 Agatha Christie

endless long stories. And he had that disconcerting habit of requiring precise information. What was the population of Dartmouth? In what year had the Naval College been built? And so on. Ex-pected his host to be a kind of walking Baedeker. Eve was a nice cheery kid--he enjoyed chaffing her. Voice rather like a corncrake, but she had all her wits about her. A bright kid.