The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
¡¡¡¡ The city of learning wore an estranged look, and he had lost all feeling for its associations. Yet as the sun made vivid lights and shades of the mullioned architecture of the facades, and drew patterns of the crinkled battlements on the young turf of the quadrangles, Jude thought he had never seen the place look more beautiful. He came to the street in which he had first beheld Sue. The chair she had occupied when, leaning over her ecclesiastical scrolls, a hog-hair brush in her hand, her girlish figure had arrested the gaze of his inquiring eyes, stood precisely in its former spot, empty. It was as if she were dead, and nobody had been found capable of succeeding her in that artistic pursuit. Hers was now the city phantom, while those of the intellectual and devotional worthies who had once moved him to emotion were no longer able to assert their presence there. ¡¡¡¡ However, here he was; and in fulfilment of his intention he went on to his former lodging in "Beersheba," near the ritualistic church of St. Silas. The old landlady who opened the door seemed glad to see him again, and bringing some lunch informed him that the builder who had employed him had called to inquire his address.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
the polish rider
the polish rider
the night watch by rembrandt
the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
"Come!" said he, "I'll have a curacao; and a light, please." ¡¡¡¡ She served the liqueur from one of the lovely bottles and striking a match held it to his cigarette with ministering archness while he whiffed. ¡¡¡¡ "Well, have you heard from your husband lately, my dear?" he asked. ¡¡¡¡ "Not a sound," said she. "Where is he?" ¡¡¡¡ "I left him in Australia; and I suppose he's there still." ¡¡¡¡ Jude's eyes grew rounder. ¡¡¡¡ "What made you part from him?" ¡¡¡¡ "Don't you ask questions, and you won't hear lies." ¡¡¡¡ "Come then, give me my change, which you've been keeping from me for the last quarter of an hour; and I'll romantically vanish up the street of this picturesque city." ¡¡¡¡ She handed the change over the counter, in taking which he caught her fingers and held them. There was a slight struggle and titter, and he bade her good-bye and left.
the night watch by rembrandt
the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
"Come!" said he, "I'll have a curacao; and a light, please." ¡¡¡¡ She served the liqueur from one of the lovely bottles and striking a match held it to his cigarette with ministering archness while he whiffed. ¡¡¡¡ "Well, have you heard from your husband lately, my dear?" he asked. ¡¡¡¡ "Not a sound," said she. "Where is he?" ¡¡¡¡ "I left him in Australia; and I suppose he's there still." ¡¡¡¡ Jude's eyes grew rounder. ¡¡¡¡ "What made you part from him?" ¡¡¡¡ "Don't you ask questions, and you won't hear lies." ¡¡¡¡ "Come then, give me my change, which you've been keeping from me for the last quarter of an hour; and I'll romantically vanish up the street of this picturesque city." ¡¡¡¡ She handed the change over the counter, in taking which he caught her fingers and held them. There was a slight struggle and titter, and he bade her good-bye and left.
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
¡¡¡¡ The barmaid attending to this compartment was invisible to Jude's direct glance, though a reflection of her back in the glass behind her was occasionally caught by his eyes. He had only observed this listlessly, when she turned her face for a moment to the glass to set her hair tidy. Then he was amazed to discover that the face was Arabella's. ¡¡¡¡ If she had come on to his compartment she would have seen him. But she did not, this being presided over by the maiden on the other side. Abby was in a black gown, with white linen cuffs and a broad white collar, and her figure, more developed than formerly, was accentuated by a bunch of daffodils that she wore on her left bosom. In the compartment she served stood an electro-plated fountain of water over a spirit-lamp, whose blue flame sent a steam from the top, all this being visible to him only in the mirror behind her; which also reflected the faces of the men she was attending to-- one of them a handsome, dissipated young fellow, possibly an undergraduate, who had been relating to her an experience of some humorous sort. ¡¡¡¡ "Oh, Mr. Cockman, now! How can you tell such a tale to me in my innocence!" she cried gaily. "Mr. Cockman, what do you use to make your moustache curl so beautiful?" As the young man was clean shaven the retort provoked a laugh at his expense.
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
¡¡¡¡ The barmaid attending to this compartment was invisible to Jude's direct glance, though a reflection of her back in the glass behind her was occasionally caught by his eyes. He had only observed this listlessly, when she turned her face for a moment to the glass to set her hair tidy. Then he was amazed to discover that the face was Arabella's. ¡¡¡¡ If she had come on to his compartment she would have seen him. But she did not, this being presided over by the maiden on the other side. Abby was in a black gown, with white linen cuffs and a broad white collar, and her figure, more developed than formerly, was accentuated by a bunch of daffodils that she wore on her left bosom. In the compartment she served stood an electro-plated fountain of water over a spirit-lamp, whose blue flame sent a steam from the top, all this being visible to him only in the mirror behind her; which also reflected the faces of the men she was attending to-- one of them a handsome, dissipated young fellow, possibly an undergraduate, who had been relating to her an experience of some humorous sort. ¡¡¡¡ "Oh, Mr. Cockman, now! How can you tell such a tale to me in my innocence!" she cried gaily. "Mr. Cockman, what do you use to make your moustache curl so beautiful?" As the young man was clean shaven the retort provoked a laugh at his expense.
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
Tinker Taylor drank off his glass and departed, saying it was too stylish a place now for him to feel at home in unless he was drunker than he had money to be just then. Jude was longer finishing his, and stood abstractedly silent in the, for the minute, almost empty place. The bar had been gutted and newly arranged throughout, mahogany fixtures having taken the place of the old painted ones, while at the back of the standing-space there were stuffed sofa-benches. The room was divided into compartments in the approved manner, between which were screens of ground glass in mahogany framing, to prevent topers in one compartment being put to the blush by the recognitions of those in the next. On the inside of the counter two barmaids leant over the white-handled beer-engines, and the row of little silvered taps inside, dripping into a pewter trough. ¡¡¡¡ Feeling tired, and having nothing more to do till the train left, Jude sat down on one of the sofas. At the back of the barmaids rose bevel-edged mirrors, with glass shelves running along their front, on which stood precious liquids that Jude did not know the name of, in bottles of topaz, sapphire, ruby and amethyst. The moment was enlivened by the entrance of some customers into the next compartment, and the starting of the mechanical tell-tale of monies received, which emitted a ting-ting every time a coin was put in.
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
Tinker Taylor drank off his glass and departed, saying it was too stylish a place now for him to feel at home in unless he was drunker than he had money to be just then. Jude was longer finishing his, and stood abstractedly silent in the, for the minute, almost empty place. The bar had been gutted and newly arranged throughout, mahogany fixtures having taken the place of the old painted ones, while at the back of the standing-space there were stuffed sofa-benches. The room was divided into compartments in the approved manner, between which were screens of ground glass in mahogany framing, to prevent topers in one compartment being put to the blush by the recognitions of those in the next. On the inside of the counter two barmaids leant over the white-handled beer-engines, and the row of little silvered taps inside, dripping into a pewter trough. ¡¡¡¡ Feeling tired, and having nothing more to do till the train left, Jude sat down on one of the sofas. At the back of the barmaids rose bevel-edged mirrors, with glass shelves running along their front, on which stood precious liquids that Jude did not know the name of, in bottles of topaz, sapphire, ruby and amethyst. The moment was enlivened by the entrance of some customers into the next compartment, and the starting of the mechanical tell-tale of monies received, which emitted a ting-ting every time a coin was put in.
The Three Ages of Woman
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
The Three Ages of Woman
¡¡¡¡ Jude went on to the stone-yard where he had worked. But the old sheds and bankers were distasteful to him; he felt it impossible to engage himself to return and stay in this place of vanished dreams. He longed for the hour of the homeward train to Alfredston, where he might probably meet Sue. ¡¡¡¡ Then, for one ghastly half-hour of depression caused by these scenes, there returned upon him that feeling which had been his undoing more than once--that he was not worth the trouble of being taken care of either by himself or others; and during this half-hour he met Tinker Taylor, the bankrupt ecclesiastical ironmonger, at Fourways, who proposed that they should adjourn to a bar and drink together. They walked along the street till they stood before one of the great palpitating centres of Christminster life, the inn wherein he formerly had responded to the challenge to rehearse the Creed in Latin-- now a popular tavern with a spacious and inviting entrance, which gave admittance to a bar that had been entirely renovated and refitted in modern style since Jude's residence here.
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
The Three Ages of Woman
¡¡¡¡ Jude went on to the stone-yard where he had worked. But the old sheds and bankers were distasteful to him; he felt it impossible to engage himself to return and stay in this place of vanished dreams. He longed for the hour of the homeward train to Alfredston, where he might probably meet Sue. ¡¡¡¡ Then, for one ghastly half-hour of depression caused by these scenes, there returned upon him that feeling which had been his undoing more than once--that he was not worth the trouble of being taken care of either by himself or others; and during this half-hour he met Tinker Taylor, the bankrupt ecclesiastical ironmonger, at Fourways, who proposed that they should adjourn to a bar and drink together. They walked along the street till they stood before one of the great palpitating centres of Christminster life, the inn wherein he formerly had responded to the challenge to rehearse the Creed in Latin-- now a popular tavern with a spacious and inviting entrance, which gave admittance to a bar that had been entirely renovated and refitted in modern style since Jude's residence here.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
The Water lily Pond
The Water lily Pond
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
¡¡¡¡ When she saw how wretched he was she softened, and trying to blink away her sympathetic tears said with all the winning reproachfulness of a heart-hurt woman: "Ah--you should have told me before you gave me that idea that you wanted to be allowed to love me! I had no feeling before that moment at the railway-station, except--" For once Sue was as miserable as he, in her attempts to keep herself free from emotion, and her less than half-success. ¡¡¡¡ "Don't cry, dear!" he implored. ¡¡¡¡ "I am--not crying--because I meant to--love you; but because of your want of--confidence!" ¡¡¡¡ They were quite screened from the market-square without, and he could not help putting out his arm towards her waist. His momentary desire was the means of her rallying. "No, no!" she said, drawing back stringently, and wiping her eyes. "Of course not! It would be hypocrisy to pretend that it would be meant as from my cousin; and it can't be in any other way." ¡¡¡¡ They moved on a dozen paces, and she showed herself recovered. It was distracting to Jude, and his heart would have ached less had she appeared anyhow but as she did appear; essentially large-minded and generous on reflection, despite a previous exercise of those narrow womanly humours on impulse that were necessary to give her sex.
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
¡¡¡¡ When she saw how wretched he was she softened, and trying to blink away her sympathetic tears said with all the winning reproachfulness of a heart-hurt woman: "Ah--you should have told me before you gave me that idea that you wanted to be allowed to love me! I had no feeling before that moment at the railway-station, except--" For once Sue was as miserable as he, in her attempts to keep herself free from emotion, and her less than half-success. ¡¡¡¡ "Don't cry, dear!" he implored. ¡¡¡¡ "I am--not crying--because I meant to--love you; but because of your want of--confidence!" ¡¡¡¡ They were quite screened from the market-square without, and he could not help putting out his arm towards her waist. His momentary desire was the means of her rallying. "No, no!" she said, drawing back stringently, and wiping her eyes. "Of course not! It would be hypocrisy to pretend that it would be meant as from my cousin; and it can't be in any other way." ¡¡¡¡ They moved on a dozen paces, and she showed herself recovered. It was distracting to Jude, and his heart would have ached less had she appeared anyhow but as she did appear; essentially large-minded and generous on reflection, despite a previous exercise of those narrow womanly humours on impulse that were necessary to give her sex.
Venus and Cupid
Venus and Cupid
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
¡¡¡¡ "You take me wrong, Sue! I never thought you cared for me at all, till quite lately; so I felt it did not matter! Do you care for me, Sue?--you know how I mean?--I don't like 'out of charity' at all!" ¡¡¡¡ It was a question which in the circumstances Sue did not choose to answer. ¡¡¡¡ "I suppose she--your wife--is--a very pretty woman even if she's wicked?" she asked quickly. ¡¡¡¡ "She's pretty enough, as far as that goes." ¡¡¡¡ "Prettier than I am, no doubt!" ¡¡¡¡ "You are not the least alike. And I have never seen her for years.... But she's sure to come back--they always do!" ¡¡¡¡ "How strange of you to stay apart from her like this!" said Sue, her trembling lip and lumpy throat belying her irony. "You, such a religious man. How will the demi-gods in your Pantheon--I mean those legendary persons you call saints--intercede for you after this? Now if I had done such a thing it would have been different, and not remarkable, for I at least don't regard marriage as a sacrament. Your theories are not so advanced as your practice!" ¡¡¡¡ "Sue, you are terribly cutting when you like to be--a perfect Voltaire! But you must treat me as you will!"
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
¡¡¡¡ "You take me wrong, Sue! I never thought you cared for me at all, till quite lately; so I felt it did not matter! Do you care for me, Sue?--you know how I mean?--I don't like 'out of charity' at all!" ¡¡¡¡ It was a question which in the circumstances Sue did not choose to answer. ¡¡¡¡ "I suppose she--your wife--is--a very pretty woman even if she's wicked?" she asked quickly. ¡¡¡¡ "She's pretty enough, as far as that goes." ¡¡¡¡ "Prettier than I am, no doubt!" ¡¡¡¡ "You are not the least alike. And I have never seen her for years.... But she's sure to come back--they always do!" ¡¡¡¡ "How strange of you to stay apart from her like this!" said Sue, her trembling lip and lumpy throat belying her irony. "You, such a religious man. How will the demi-gods in your Pantheon--I mean those legendary persons you call saints--intercede for you after this? Now if I had done such a thing it would have been different, and not remarkable, for I at least don't regard marriage as a sacrament. Your theories are not so advanced as your practice!" ¡¡¡¡ "Sue, you are terribly cutting when you like to be--a perfect Voltaire! But you must treat me as you will!"
The Three Ages of Woman
The Three Ages of Woman
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
The building by which they stood was the market-house, it was the only place available; and they entered, the market being over, and the stalls and areas empty. He would have preferred a more congenial spot, but, as usually happens, in place of a romantic field or solemn aisle for his tale, it was told while they walked up and down over a floor littered with rotten cabbage-leaves, and amid all the usual squalors of decayed vegetable matter and unsaleable refuse. He began and finished his brief narrative, which merely led up to the information that he had married a wife some years earlier, and that his wife was living still. Almost before her countenance had time to change she hurried out the words, ¡¡¡¡ "Why didn't you tell me before!" ¡¡¡¡ "I couldn't. It seemed so cruel to tell it." ¡¡¡¡ "To yourself, Jude. So it was better to be cruel to me!" ¡¡¡¡ "No, dear darling!" cried Jude passionately. He tried to take her hand, but she withdrew it. Their old relations of confidence seemed suddenly to have ended, and the antagonisms of sex to sex were left without any counter-poising predilections. She was his comrade, friend, unconscious sweetheart no longer; and her eyes regarded him in estranged silence. ¡¡¡¡ "I was ashamed of the episode in my life which brought about the marriage," he continued. "I can't explain it precisely now. I could have done it if you had taken it differently!" ¡¡¡¡ "But how can I?" she burst out. "Here I have been saying, or writing, that--that you might love me, or something of the sort!-- just out of charity--and all the time--oh, it is perfectly damnable how things are!" she said, stamping her foot in a nervous quiver.
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
The building by which they stood was the market-house, it was the only place available; and they entered, the market being over, and the stalls and areas empty. He would have preferred a more congenial spot, but, as usually happens, in place of a romantic field or solemn aisle for his tale, it was told while they walked up and down over a floor littered with rotten cabbage-leaves, and amid all the usual squalors of decayed vegetable matter and unsaleable refuse. He began and finished his brief narrative, which merely led up to the information that he had married a wife some years earlier, and that his wife was living still. Almost before her countenance had time to change she hurried out the words, ¡¡¡¡ "Why didn't you tell me before!" ¡¡¡¡ "I couldn't. It seemed so cruel to tell it." ¡¡¡¡ "To yourself, Jude. So it was better to be cruel to me!" ¡¡¡¡ "No, dear darling!" cried Jude passionately. He tried to take her hand, but she withdrew it. Their old relations of confidence seemed suddenly to have ended, and the antagonisms of sex to sex were left without any counter-poising predilections. She was his comrade, friend, unconscious sweetheart no longer; and her eyes regarded him in estranged silence. ¡¡¡¡ "I was ashamed of the episode in my life which brought about the marriage," he continued. "I can't explain it precisely now. I could have done it if you had taken it differently!" ¡¡¡¡ "But how can I?" she burst out. "Here I have been saying, or writing, that--that you might love me, or something of the sort!-- just out of charity--and all the time--oh, it is perfectly damnable how things are!" she said, stamping her foot in a nervous quiver.
the Night Watch
the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
¡¡¡¡ "Does it really seem so to you?" said she, smiling with quick curiosity. "Well, that's strange; but I feel just the same about you, Jude. When you are gone away I seem such a coldhearted----" ¡¡¡¡ As she knew his sentiment towards her Jude saw that they were getting upon dangerous ground. It was now, he thought, that he must speak as an honest man. ¡¡¡¡ But he did not speak, and she continued: "It was that which made me write and say--I didn't mind your loving me--if you wanted to, much!" ¡¡¡¡ The exultation he might have felt at what that implied, or seemed to imply, was nullified by his intention, and he rested rigid till he began: "I have never told you----" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes you have," murmured she. ¡¡¡¡ "I mean, I have never told you my history--all of it." ¡¡¡¡ "But I guess it. l know nearly." ¡¡¡¡ Jude looked up. Could she possibly know of that morning performance of his with Arabella; which in a few months had ceased to be a marriage more completely than by death? He saw that she did not. ¡¡¡¡ "I can't quite tell you here in the street," he went on with a gloomy tongue. "And you had better not come to my lodgings. Let us go in here."
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
¡¡¡¡ "Does it really seem so to you?" said she, smiling with quick curiosity. "Well, that's strange; but I feel just the same about you, Jude. When you are gone away I seem such a coldhearted----" ¡¡¡¡ As she knew his sentiment towards her Jude saw that they were getting upon dangerous ground. It was now, he thought, that he must speak as an honest man. ¡¡¡¡ But he did not speak, and she continued: "It was that which made me write and say--I didn't mind your loving me--if you wanted to, much!" ¡¡¡¡ The exultation he might have felt at what that implied, or seemed to imply, was nullified by his intention, and he rested rigid till he began: "I have never told you----" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes you have," murmured she. ¡¡¡¡ "I mean, I have never told you my history--all of it." ¡¡¡¡ "But I guess it. l know nearly." ¡¡¡¡ Jude looked up. Could she possibly know of that morning performance of his with Arabella; which in a few months had ceased to be a marriage more completely than by death? He saw that she did not. ¡¡¡¡ "I can't quite tell you here in the street," he went on with a gloomy tongue. "And you had better not come to my lodgings. Let us go in here."
The Broken Pitcher
The Broken Pitcher
The Jewel Casket
The Kitchen Maid
The Lady of Shalott
the night watch by rembrandt
¡¡¡¡ "It is," said Jude solemnly. "Absolutely. So help me God!" ¡¡¡¡ The schoolmaster rose. Each of the twain felt that the interview could not comfortably merge in a friendly discussion of their recent experiences, after the manner of friends; and when Jude had taken him round, and shown him some features of the renovation which the old cathedral was undergoing, Phillotson bade the young man good-day and went away. ¡¡¡¡ This visit took place about eleven o'clock in the morning; but no Sue appeared. When Jude went to his dinner at one he saw his beloved ahead of him in the street leading up from the North Gate, walking as if no way looking for him. Speedily overtaking her he remarked that he had asked her to come to him at the cathedral, and she had promised. ¡¡¡¡ "I have been to get my things from the college," she said--an observation which he was expected to take as an answer, though it was not one. Finding her to be in this evasive mood he felt inclined to give her the information so long withheld. ¡¡¡¡ "You have not seen Mr. Phillotson to-day?" he ventured to inquire. ¡¡¡¡ "I have not. But I am not going to be cross-examined about him; and if you ask anything more I won't answer!" ¡¡¡¡ "It is very odd that--" He stopped, regarding her. ¡¡¡¡ "What?"
The Jewel Casket
The Kitchen Maid
The Lady of Shalott
the night watch by rembrandt
¡¡¡¡ "It is," said Jude solemnly. "Absolutely. So help me God!" ¡¡¡¡ The schoolmaster rose. Each of the twain felt that the interview could not comfortably merge in a friendly discussion of their recent experiences, after the manner of friends; and when Jude had taken him round, and shown him some features of the renovation which the old cathedral was undergoing, Phillotson bade the young man good-day and went away. ¡¡¡¡ This visit took place about eleven o'clock in the morning; but no Sue appeared. When Jude went to his dinner at one he saw his beloved ahead of him in the street leading up from the North Gate, walking as if no way looking for him. Speedily overtaking her he remarked that he had asked her to come to him at the cathedral, and she had promised. ¡¡¡¡ "I have been to get my things from the college," she said--an observation which he was expected to take as an answer, though it was not one. Finding her to be in this evasive mood he felt inclined to give her the information so long withheld. ¡¡¡¡ "You have not seen Mr. Phillotson to-day?" he ventured to inquire. ¡¡¡¡ "I have not. But I am not going to be cross-examined about him; and if you ask anything more I won't answer!" ¡¡¡¡ "It is very odd that--" He stopped, regarding her. ¡¡¡¡ "What?"
Monday, October 29, 2007
William Bouguereau Biblis painting
Biblis painting
William Bouguereau Biblis
Charity painting
¡¡¡¡ They entered the parlour of the school-house, where there was a lamp with a paper shade, which threw the light down on three or four books. Phillotson took it off, so that they could see each other better, and the rays fell on the nervous little face and vivacious dark eyes and hair of Sue, on the earnest features of her cousin, and on the schoolmaster's own maturer face and figure, showing him to be a spare and thoughtful personage of five-and-forty, with a thin-lipped, somewhat refined mouth, a slightly stooping habit, and a black frock coat, which from continued frictions shone a little at the shoulder-blades, the middle of the back, and the elbows. ¡¡¡¡ The old friendship was imperceptibly renewed, the schoolmaster speaking of his experiences, and the cousins of theirs. He told them that he still thought of the Church sometimes, and that though he could not enter it as he had intended to do in former years he might enter it as a licentiate. Meanwhile, he said, he was comfortable in his present position, though he was in want of a pupil-teacher. They did not stay to supper, Sue having to be indoors before it grew late, and the road was retraced to Christminster. Though they had talked of nothing more than general subjects, Jude was surprised to find what a revelation of woman his cousin was to him. She was so vibrant that everything she did seemed to have its source in feeling. An exciting thought would make her walk ahead so fast that he could hardly keep up with her; and her sensitiveness on some points was such that it might have been misread as vanity. It was with heart-sickness he perceived that, while her sentiments towards him were those of the frankest friendliness only, he loved her more than before becoming acquainted with her; and the gloom of the walk home lay not in the night overhead, but in the thought of her departure.
William Bouguereau Biblis
Charity painting
¡¡¡¡ They entered the parlour of the school-house, where there was a lamp with a paper shade, which threw the light down on three or four books. Phillotson took it off, so that they could see each other better, and the rays fell on the nervous little face and vivacious dark eyes and hair of Sue, on the earnest features of her cousin, and on the schoolmaster's own maturer face and figure, showing him to be a spare and thoughtful personage of five-and-forty, with a thin-lipped, somewhat refined mouth, a slightly stooping habit, and a black frock coat, which from continued frictions shone a little at the shoulder-blades, the middle of the back, and the elbows. ¡¡¡¡ The old friendship was imperceptibly renewed, the schoolmaster speaking of his experiences, and the cousins of theirs. He told them that he still thought of the Church sometimes, and that though he could not enter it as he had intended to do in former years he might enter it as a licentiate. Meanwhile, he said, he was comfortable in his present position, though he was in want of a pupil-teacher. They did not stay to supper, Sue having to be indoors before it grew late, and the road was retraced to Christminster. Though they had talked of nothing more than general subjects, Jude was surprised to find what a revelation of woman his cousin was to him. She was so vibrant that everything she did seemed to have its source in feeling. An exciting thought would make her walk ahead so fast that he could hardly keep up with her; and her sensitiveness on some points was such that it might have been misread as vanity. It was with heart-sickness he perceived that, while her sentiments towards him were those of the frankest friendliness only, he loved her more than before becoming acquainted with her; and the gloom of the walk home lay not in the night overhead, but in the thought of her departure.
A Greek Beauty
A Greek Beauty
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
Yes. I was there a short time. And is this an old pupil, too?" ¡¡¡¡ "No--that's my cousin.... I wrote to you for some grammars, if you recollect, and you sent them?" ¡¡¡¡ "Ah--yes!--I do dimly recall that incident." ¡¡¡¡ "It was very kind of you to do it. And it was you who first started me on that course. On the morning you left Marygreen, when your goods were on the waggon, you wished me good-bye, and said your scheme was to be a university man and enter the Church-- that a degree was the necessary hall-mark of one who wanted to do anything as a theologian or teacher." ¡¡¡¡ "I remember I thought all that privately; but I wonder I did not keep my own counsel. The idea was given up years ago." ¡¡¡¡ "I have never forgotten it. It was that which brought me to this part of the country, and out here to see you to-night." ¡¡¡¡ "Come in," said Phillotson. "And your cousin, too."
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
Yes. I was there a short time. And is this an old pupil, too?" ¡¡¡¡ "No--that's my cousin.... I wrote to you for some grammars, if you recollect, and you sent them?" ¡¡¡¡ "Ah--yes!--I do dimly recall that incident." ¡¡¡¡ "It was very kind of you to do it. And it was you who first started me on that course. On the morning you left Marygreen, when your goods were on the waggon, you wished me good-bye, and said your scheme was to be a university man and enter the Church-- that a degree was the necessary hall-mark of one who wanted to do anything as a theologian or teacher." ¡¡¡¡ "I remember I thought all that privately; but I wonder I did not keep my own counsel. The idea was given up years ago." ¡¡¡¡ "I have never forgotten it. It was that which brought me to this part of the country, and out here to see you to-night." ¡¡¡¡ "Come in," said Phillotson. "And your cousin, too."
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
She agreed, and they went along up a hill, and through some prettily wooded country. Presently the embattled tower and square turret of the church rose into the sky, and then the school-house. They inquired of a person in the street if Mr. Phillotson was likely to be at home, and were informed that he was always at home. A knock brought him to the school-house door, with a candle in his hand and a look of inquiry on his face, which had grown thin and careworn since Jude last set eyes on him. ¡¡¡¡ That after all these years the meeting with Mr. Phillotson should be of this homely complexion destroyed at one stroke the halo which had surrounded the school-master's figure in Jude's imagination ever since their parting. It created in him at the same time a sympathy with Phillotson as an obviously much chastened and disappointed man. Jude told him his name, and said he had come to see him as an old friend who had been kind to him in his youthful days. ¡¡¡¡ "I don't remember you in the least," said the school-master thoughtfully. "You were one of my pupils, you say? Yes, no doubt; but they number so many thousands by this time of my life, and have naturally changed so much, that I remember very few except the quite recent ones."
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
She agreed, and they went along up a hill, and through some prettily wooded country. Presently the embattled tower and square turret of the church rose into the sky, and then the school-house. They inquired of a person in the street if Mr. Phillotson was likely to be at home, and were informed that he was always at home. A knock brought him to the school-house door, with a candle in his hand and a look of inquiry on his face, which had grown thin and careworn since Jude last set eyes on him. ¡¡¡¡ That after all these years the meeting with Mr. Phillotson should be of this homely complexion destroyed at one stroke the halo which had surrounded the school-master's figure in Jude's imagination ever since their parting. It created in him at the same time a sympathy with Phillotson as an obviously much chastened and disappointed man. Jude told him his name, and said he had come to see him as an old friend who had been kind to him in his youthful days. ¡¡¡¡ "I don't remember you in the least," said the school-master thoughtfully. "You were one of my pupils, you say? Yes, no doubt; but they number so many thousands by this time of my life, and have naturally changed so much, that I remember very few except the quite recent ones."
The Three Ages of Woman
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
Venus and Cupid
Yes. That's unfortunate. I have hardly any other friend. I have, indeed, one very old friend here somewhere, but I don't quite like to call on him just yet. I wonder if you know anything of him-- Mr. Phillotson? A parson somewhere about the county I think he is." ¡¡¡¡ "No--I only know of one Mr. Phillotson. He lives a little way out in the country, at Lumsdon. He's a village schoolmaster." ¡¡¡¡ "Ah! I wonder if he's the same. Surely it is impossible! Only a schoolmaster still! Do you know his Christian name-- is it Richard?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes--it is; I've directed books to him, though I've never seen him." ¡¡¡¡ "Then he couldn't do it!" ¡¡¡¡ Jude's countenance fell, for how could he succeed in an enterprise wherein the great Phillotson had failed? He would have had a day of despair if the news had not arrived during his sweet Sue's presence, but even at this moment he had visions of how Phillotson's failure in the grand university scheme would depress him when she had gone. ¡¡¡¡ "As we are going to take a walk, suppose we go and call upon him?" said Jude suddenly. "It is not late."
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
Venus and Cupid
Yes. That's unfortunate. I have hardly any other friend. I have, indeed, one very old friend here somewhere, but I don't quite like to call on him just yet. I wonder if you know anything of him-- Mr. Phillotson? A parson somewhere about the county I think he is." ¡¡¡¡ "No--I only know of one Mr. Phillotson. He lives a little way out in the country, at Lumsdon. He's a village schoolmaster." ¡¡¡¡ "Ah! I wonder if he's the same. Surely it is impossible! Only a schoolmaster still! Do you know his Christian name-- is it Richard?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes--it is; I've directed books to him, though I've never seen him." ¡¡¡¡ "Then he couldn't do it!" ¡¡¡¡ Jude's countenance fell, for how could he succeed in an enterprise wherein the great Phillotson had failed? He would have had a day of despair if the news had not arrived during his sweet Sue's presence, but even at this moment he had visions of how Phillotson's failure in the grand university scheme would depress him when she had gone. ¡¡¡¡ "As we are going to take a walk, suppose we go and call upon him?" said Jude suddenly. "It is not late."
William Bouguereau The Nut Gatherers Painting
William Bouguereau The Nut Gatherers Painting
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The voice, though positive and silvery, had been tremulous. They walked on in parallel lines, and, waiting her pleasure, Jude watched till she showed signs of closing in, when he did likewise, the place being where the carriers' carts stood in the daytime, though there was none on the spot then. ¡¡¡¡ "I am sorry that I asked you to meet me, and didn't call," began Jude with the bashfulness of a lover. "But I thought it would save time if we were going to walk." ¡¡¡¡ "Oh--I don't mind that," she said with the freedom of a friend. "I have really no place to ask anybody in to. What I meant was that the place you chose was so horrid--I suppose I ought not to say horrid-- I mean gloomy and inauspicious in its associations.... But isn't it funny to begin like this, when I don't know you yet?" She looked him up and down curiously, though Jude did not look much at her. ¡¡¡¡ "You seem to know me more than I know you," she added. ¡¡¡¡ "Yes--I have seen you now and then." ¡¡¡¡ "And you knew who I was, and didn't speak? And now I am going away!"
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The voice, though positive and silvery, had been tremulous. They walked on in parallel lines, and, waiting her pleasure, Jude watched till she showed signs of closing in, when he did likewise, the place being where the carriers' carts stood in the daytime, though there was none on the spot then. ¡¡¡¡ "I am sorry that I asked you to meet me, and didn't call," began Jude with the bashfulness of a lover. "But I thought it would save time if we were going to walk." ¡¡¡¡ "Oh--I don't mind that," she said with the freedom of a friend. "I have really no place to ask anybody in to. What I meant was that the place you chose was so horrid--I suppose I ought not to say horrid-- I mean gloomy and inauspicious in its associations.... But isn't it funny to begin like this, when I don't know you yet?" She looked him up and down curiously, though Jude did not look much at her. ¡¡¡¡ "You seem to know me more than I know you," she added. ¡¡¡¡ "Yes--I have seen you now and then." ¡¡¡¡ "And you knew who I was, and didn't speak? And now I am going away!"
Sunday, October 28, 2007
William Bouguereau Biblis painting
William Bouguereau Biblis
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
It was not till now, when he found himself actually on the spot of his enthusiasm, that Jude perceived how far away from the object of that enthusiasm he really was. Only a wall divided him from those happy young contemporaries of his with whom he shared a common mental life; men who had nothing to do from morning till night but to read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest. Only a wall-- but what a wall! ¡¡¡¡ Every day, every hour, as he went in search of labour, he saw them going and coming also, rubbed shoulders with them, heard their voices, marked their movements. The conversation of some of the more thoughtful among them seemed oftentimes, owing to his long and persistent preparation for this place, to be peculiarly akin to his own thoughts. Yet he was as far from them as if he had been at the antipodes. Of course he was. He was a young workman in a white blouse, and with stone-dust in the creases of his clothes; and in passing him they did not even see him, or hear him, rather saw through him as through a pane of glass at their familiars beyond. Whatever they were to him, he to them was not on the spot at all; and yet he had fancied he would be close to their lives by coming there.
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
It was not till now, when he found himself actually on the spot of his enthusiasm, that Jude perceived how far away from the object of that enthusiasm he really was. Only a wall divided him from those happy young contemporaries of his with whom he shared a common mental life; men who had nothing to do from morning till night but to read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest. Only a wall-- but what a wall! ¡¡¡¡ Every day, every hour, as he went in search of labour, he saw them going and coming also, rubbed shoulders with them, heard their voices, marked their movements. The conversation of some of the more thoughtful among them seemed oftentimes, owing to his long and persistent preparation for this place, to be peculiarly akin to his own thoughts. Yet he was as far from them as if he had been at the antipodes. Of course he was. He was a young workman in a white blouse, and with stone-dust in the creases of his clothes; and in passing him they did not even see him, or hear him, rather saw through him as through a pane of glass at their familiars beyond. Whatever they were to him, he to them was not on the spot at all; and yet he had fancied he would be close to their lives by coming there.
A Greek Beauty
A Greek Beauty
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
¡¡¡¡ There remained the schoolmaster--probably now a reverend parson. But he could not possibly hunt up such a respectable man just yet; so raw and unpolished was his condition, so precarious were his fortunes. Thus he still remained in loneliness. Although people moved round him he virtually saw none. Not as yet having mingled with the active life of the place it was largely non-existent to him. But the saints and prophets in the window-tracery, the paintings in the galleries, the statues, the busts, the gargoyles, the corbel-heads-- these seemed to breathe his atmosphere. Like all new comers to a spot on which the past is deeply graven he heard that past announcing itself with an emphasis altogether unsuspected by, and even incredible to, the habitual residents. ¡¡¡¡ For many days he haunted the cloisters and quadrangles of the colleges at odd minutes in passing them, surprised by impish echoes of his own footsteps, smart as the blows of a mallet. The Christminster "sentiment," as it had been called, ate further and further into him; till he probably knew more about those buildings materially, artistically, and historically, than any one of their inmates.
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
¡¡¡¡ There remained the schoolmaster--probably now a reverend parson. But he could not possibly hunt up such a respectable man just yet; so raw and unpolished was his condition, so precarious were his fortunes. Thus he still remained in loneliness. Although people moved round him he virtually saw none. Not as yet having mingled with the active life of the place it was largely non-existent to him. But the saints and prophets in the window-tracery, the paintings in the galleries, the statues, the busts, the gargoyles, the corbel-heads-- these seemed to breathe his atmosphere. Like all new comers to a spot on which the past is deeply graven he heard that past announcing itself with an emphasis altogether unsuspected by, and even incredible to, the habitual residents. ¡¡¡¡ For many days he haunted the cloisters and quadrangles of the colleges at odd minutes in passing them, surprised by impish echoes of his own footsteps, smart as the blows of a mallet. The Christminster "sentiment," as it had been called, ate further and further into him; till he probably knew more about those buildings materially, artistically, and historically, than any one of their inmates.
A Greek Beauty
A Greek Beauty
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
¡¡¡¡ There remained the schoolmaster--probably now a reverend parson. But he could not possibly hunt up such a respectable man just yet; so raw and unpolished was his condition, so precarious were his fortunes. Thus he still remained in loneliness. Although people moved round him he virtually saw none. Not as yet having mingled with the active life of the place it was largely non-existent to him. But the saints and prophets in the window-tracery, the paintings in the galleries, the statues, the busts, the gargoyles, the corbel-heads-- these seemed to breathe his atmosphere. Like all new comers to a spot on which the past is deeply graven he heard that past announcing itself with an emphasis altogether unsuspected by, and even incredible to, the habitual residents. ¡¡¡¡ For many days he haunted the cloisters and quadrangles of the colleges at odd minutes in passing them, surprised by impish echoes of his own footsteps, smart as the blows of a mallet. The Christminster "sentiment," as it had been called, ate further and further into him; till he probably knew more about those buildings materially, artistically, and historically, than any one of their inmates.
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
¡¡¡¡ There remained the schoolmaster--probably now a reverend parson. But he could not possibly hunt up such a respectable man just yet; so raw and unpolished was his condition, so precarious were his fortunes. Thus he still remained in loneliness. Although people moved round him he virtually saw none. Not as yet having mingled with the active life of the place it was largely non-existent to him. But the saints and prophets in the window-tracery, the paintings in the galleries, the statues, the busts, the gargoyles, the corbel-heads-- these seemed to breathe his atmosphere. Like all new comers to a spot on which the past is deeply graven he heard that past announcing itself with an emphasis altogether unsuspected by, and even incredible to, the habitual residents. ¡¡¡¡ For many days he haunted the cloisters and quadrangles of the colleges at odd minutes in passing them, surprised by impish echoes of his own footsteps, smart as the blows of a mallet. The Christminster "sentiment," as it had been called, ate further and further into him; till he probably knew more about those buildings materially, artistically, and historically, than any one of their inmates.
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
¡¡¡¡ Moreover he perceived that at best only copying, patching and imitating went on here; which he fancied to be owing to some temporary and local cause. He did not at that time see that mediaevalism was as dead as a fern-leaf in a lump of coal; that other developments were shaping in the world around him, in which Gothic architecture and its associations had no place. The deadly animosity of contemporary logic and vision towards so much of what he held in reverence was not yet revealed to him. ¡¡¡¡ Having failed to obtain work here as yet he went away, and thought again of his cousin, whose presence somewhere at hand he seemed to feel in wavelets of interest, if not of emotion. How he wished he had that pretty portrait of her! At last he wrote to his aunt to send it. She did so, with a request, however, that he was not to bring disturbance into the family by going to see the girl or her relations. Jude, a ridiculously affectionate fellow, promised nothing, put the photograph on the mantel-piece, kissed it-- he did not know why--and felt more at home. She seemed to look down and preside over his tea. It was cheering--the one thing uniting him to the emotions of the living city.
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
¡¡¡¡ Moreover he perceived that at best only copying, patching and imitating went on here; which he fancied to be owing to some temporary and local cause. He did not at that time see that mediaevalism was as dead as a fern-leaf in a lump of coal; that other developments were shaping in the world around him, in which Gothic architecture and its associations had no place. The deadly animosity of contemporary logic and vision towards so much of what he held in reverence was not yet revealed to him. ¡¡¡¡ Having failed to obtain work here as yet he went away, and thought again of his cousin, whose presence somewhere at hand he seemed to feel in wavelets of interest, if not of emotion. How he wished he had that pretty portrait of her! At last he wrote to his aunt to send it. She did so, with a request, however, that he was not to bring disturbance into the family by going to see the girl or her relations. Jude, a ridiculously affectionate fellow, promised nothing, put the photograph on the mantel-piece, kissed it-- he did not know why--and felt more at home. She seemed to look down and preside over his tea. It was cheering--the one thing uniting him to the emotions of the living city.
The Three Ages of Woman
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
Venus and Cupid
The yard was a little centre of regeneration. Here, with keen edges and smooth curves, were forms in the exact likeness of those he had seen abraded and time-eaten on the walls. These were the ideas in modern prose which the lichened colleges presented in old poetry. Even some of those antiques might have been called prose when they were new. They had done nothing but wait, and had become poetical. How easy to the smallest building; how impossible to most men. ¡¡¡¡ He asked for the foreman, and looked round among the new traceries, mullions, transoms, shafts, pinnacles, and battlements standing on the bankers half worked, or waiting to be removed. They were marked by precision, mathematical straightness, smoothness, exactitude: there in the old walls were the broken lines of the original idea; jagged curves, disdain of precision, irregularity, disarray. ¡¡¡¡ For a moment there fell on Jude a true illumination; that here in the stone yard was a centre of effort as worthy as that dignified by the name of scholarly study within the noblest of the colleges. But he lost it under stress of his old idea. He would accept any employment which might be offered him on the strength of his late employer's recommendation; but he would accept it as a provisional thing only. This was his form of the modern vice of unrest.
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
Venus and Cupid
The yard was a little centre of regeneration. Here, with keen edges and smooth curves, were forms in the exact likeness of those he had seen abraded and time-eaten on the walls. These were the ideas in modern prose which the lichened colleges presented in old poetry. Even some of those antiques might have been called prose when they were new. They had done nothing but wait, and had become poetical. How easy to the smallest building; how impossible to most men. ¡¡¡¡ He asked for the foreman, and looked round among the new traceries, mullions, transoms, shafts, pinnacles, and battlements standing on the bankers half worked, or waiting to be removed. They were marked by precision, mathematical straightness, smoothness, exactitude: there in the old walls were the broken lines of the original idea; jagged curves, disdain of precision, irregularity, disarray. ¡¡¡¡ For a moment there fell on Jude a true illumination; that here in the stone yard was a centre of effort as worthy as that dignified by the name of scholarly study within the noblest of the colleges. But he lost it under stress of his old idea. He would accept any employment which might be offered him on the strength of his late employer's recommendation; but he would accept it as a provisional thing only. This was his form of the modern vice of unrest.
William Bouguereau The Nut Gatherers Painting
William Bouguereau The Nut Gatherers Painting
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
¡¡¡¡ The numberless architectural pages around him he read, naturally, less as an artist-critic of their forms than as an artizan and comrade of the dead handicraftsmen whose muscles had actually executed those forms. He examined the mouldings, stroked them as one who knew their beginning, said they were difficult or easy in the working, had taken little or much time, were trying to the arm, or convenient to the tool. ¡¡¡¡ What at night had been perfect and ideal was by day the more or less defective real. Cruelties, insults, had, he perceived, been inflicted on the aged erections. The condition of several moved him as he would have been moved by maimed sentient beings. They were wounded, broken, sloughing off their outer shape in the deadly struggle against years, weather, and man. ¡¡¡¡ The rottenness of these historical documents reminded him that he was not, after all, hastening on to begin the morning practically as he had intended. He had come to work, and to live by work, and the morning had nearly gone. It was, in one sense, encouraging to think that in a place of crumbling stones there must be plenty for one of his trade to do in the business of renovation. He asked his way to the workyard of the stone-mason whose name had been given him at Alfredston; and soon heard the familiar sound of the rubbers and chisels.
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
¡¡¡¡ The numberless architectural pages around him he read, naturally, less as an artist-critic of their forms than as an artizan and comrade of the dead handicraftsmen whose muscles had actually executed those forms. He examined the mouldings, stroked them as one who knew their beginning, said they were difficult or easy in the working, had taken little or much time, were trying to the arm, or convenient to the tool. ¡¡¡¡ What at night had been perfect and ideal was by day the more or less defective real. Cruelties, insults, had, he perceived, been inflicted on the aged erections. The condition of several moved him as he would have been moved by maimed sentient beings. They were wounded, broken, sloughing off their outer shape in the deadly struggle against years, weather, and man. ¡¡¡¡ The rottenness of these historical documents reminded him that he was not, after all, hastening on to begin the morning practically as he had intended. He had come to work, and to live by work, and the morning had nearly gone. It was, in one sense, encouraging to think that in a place of crumbling stones there must be plenty for one of his trade to do in the business of renovation. He asked his way to the workyard of the stone-mason whose name had been given him at Alfredston; and soon heard the familiar sound of the rubbers and chisels.
Friday, October 26, 2007
William Bouguereau Biblis painting
William Bouguereau Biblis
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
Stoddart-West gave a deep sigh.
"Smashing luck for us, wasn't it?" he said. "On our last day, too."
"Last day?"
"Yes," said Alexander. "I'm going to Stodders' place tomorrow for the last few days of the holidays. Stodders' people have got a smashing house - Queen Anne, isn't it?"
"William and Mary," said Stoddart-West.
"I thought your mother said –"
"Mum's French. She doesn't really know about English architecture."
"But your father said it was built –"
Craddock was examining the envelope.
Clever of Lucy Eyelesbarrow. How had she managed to fake the post mark? He peered closely, but the light was too feeble. Great fun for the boys, of course, but rather awkward for him. Lucy, drat her, hadn't considered that angle. If this were genuine, it would enforce a course of action. There…
Beside him a learned architectural argument was being hotly pursued.
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
Stoddart-West gave a deep sigh.
"Smashing luck for us, wasn't it?" he said. "On our last day, too."
"Last day?"
"Yes," said Alexander. "I'm going to Stodders' place tomorrow for the last few days of the holidays. Stodders' people have got a smashing house - Queen Anne, isn't it?"
"William and Mary," said Stoddart-West.
"I thought your mother said –"
"Mum's French. She doesn't really know about English architecture."
"But your father said it was built –"
Craddock was examining the envelope.
Clever of Lucy Eyelesbarrow. How had she managed to fake the post mark? He peered closely, but the light was too feeble. Great fun for the boys, of course, but rather awkward for him. Lucy, drat her, hadn't considered that angle. If this were genuine, it would enforce a course of action. There…
Beside him a learned architectural argument was being hotly pursued.
A Greek Beauty
A Greek Beauty
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
Craddock took it with due solemnity. He liked the boys and he was ready to enter into the spirit of the thing.
The letter had been through the post, there was no enclosure inside, it was just a torn envelope - addressed to Mrs. Martine Crackenthorpe, 126 Elvers Crescent, N.10.
"You see?" said Alexander breathlessly. "It shows she was here – Uncle Edmund's French wife, I mean – the one there's all the fuss about. She must have actually been here and dropped it somewhere. So it looks, doesn't it –"
Stoddart-West broke in:
"It looks as though she was the one who got murdered - I mean, don't you think, sir, that it simply must have been her in the sarcophagus?"
They waited anxiously.
Craddock played up.
"Possible, very possible," he said.
"This is important, isn't it?"
"You'll test it for fingerprints, won't you, sir?"
"Of course," said Craddock.
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
Craddock took it with due solemnity. He liked the boys and he was ready to enter into the spirit of the thing.
The letter had been through the post, there was no enclosure inside, it was just a torn envelope - addressed to Mrs. Martine Crackenthorpe, 126 Elvers Crescent, N.10.
"You see?" said Alexander breathlessly. "It shows she was here – Uncle Edmund's French wife, I mean – the one there's all the fuss about. She must have actually been here and dropped it somewhere. So it looks, doesn't it –"
Stoddart-West broke in:
"It looks as though she was the one who got murdered - I mean, don't you think, sir, that it simply must have been her in the sarcophagus?"
They waited anxiously.
Craddock played up.
"Possible, very possible," he said.
"This is important, isn't it?"
"You'll test it for fingerprints, won't you, sir?"
"Of course," said Craddock.
Venus and Cupid
Venus and Cupid
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
"For when the boiler goes out and he wants to start it again –"
"Any odd paper that's blowing about. He picks it up and shoves it in there –"
"And that's where we found it –"
"Found what?" Craddock interrupted the duet.
"The clue. Careful, Stodders, get your gloves on."
Important, Stoddart-West, in the best detective story tradition, drew on a pair of rather dirty gloves and took from his pocket a Kodak photographic folder. From this he extracted in his gloved fingers with the utmost care a soiled and crumpled envelope which he handed importantly to the inspector.
Both boys held their breath in excitement.
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
"For when the boiler goes out and he wants to start it again –"
"Any odd paper that's blowing about. He picks it up and shoves it in there –"
"And that's where we found it –"
"Found what?" Craddock interrupted the duet.
"The clue. Careful, Stodders, get your gloves on."
Important, Stoddart-West, in the best detective story tradition, drew on a pair of rather dirty gloves and took from his pocket a Kodak photographic folder. From this he extracted in his gloved fingers with the utmost care a soiled and crumpled envelope which he handed importantly to the inspector.
Both boys held their breath in excitement.
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
There were certain tokens of occupancy about. The decayed mattresses had been piled up to make a kind of divan, there was an old rusted table on which reposed a large tin of chocolate biscuits, there was a hoard of apples, a tin of toffee, and a jig-saw puzzle.
"It really is a clue, sir," said Stoddart-West eagerly, his eyes gleaming behind his spectacles. "We found it this afternoon."
"We've been hunting for days. In the bushes –"
"And inside hollow trees –"
"And we went all through the ash bins –"
"There were some jolly interesting things there, as a matter of fact –"
"And then we went into the boiler house –"
"Old Hillman keeps a great galvanised tub there full of waste paper –"
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
There were certain tokens of occupancy about. The decayed mattresses had been piled up to make a kind of divan, there was an old rusted table on which reposed a large tin of chocolate biscuits, there was a hoard of apples, a tin of toffee, and a jig-saw puzzle.
"It really is a clue, sir," said Stoddart-West eagerly, his eyes gleaming behind his spectacles. "We found it this afternoon."
"We've been hunting for days. In the bushes –"
"And inside hollow trees –"
"And we went all through the ash bins –"
"There were some jolly interesting things there, as a matter of fact –"
"And then we went into the boiler house –"
"Old Hillman keeps a great galvanised tub there full of waste paper –"
the Night Watch
the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider "Splendid," he said in a perfunctory manner. "Let's go inside the house and look at it."
"No," Alexander was insistent. "Someone's sure to interrupt. Come to the harness room. We'll guide you."
Somewhat unwillingly, Craddock allowed himself to be guided round the corner of the house and along to the stable yard. Stoddart-West pushed open a heavy door, stretched up, and turned on a rather feeble electric light. The harness room, once the acme of Victorian spit and polish, was now the sad repository of everything that no one wanted. Broken garden chairs, rusted old garden implements, a vast decrepit mowing-machine, rusted spring mattresses, hammocks, and disintegrated tennis nets.
"We come here a good deal," said Alexander. "One can really be private here."
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider "Splendid," he said in a perfunctory manner. "Let's go inside the house and look at it."
"No," Alexander was insistent. "Someone's sure to interrupt. Come to the harness room. We'll guide you."
Somewhat unwillingly, Craddock allowed himself to be guided round the corner of the house and along to the stable yard. Stoddart-West pushed open a heavy door, stretched up, and turned on a rather feeble electric light. The harness room, once the acme of Victorian spit and polish, was now the sad repository of everything that no one wanted. Broken garden chairs, rusted old garden implements, a vast decrepit mowing-machine, rusted spring mattresses, hammocks, and disintegrated tennis nets.
"We come here a good deal," said Alexander. "One can really be private here."
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Abstract Painting The Three Ages of Woman
Abstract Painting
"You are, of course, Mr. Crackenthorpe," said Craddock soothingly and rising as he spoke. "But we understood that you had already told Inspector Bacon all you knew, and that, your health not being good, we must not make too many demands upon it. Dr. Quimper said –"
"I dare say - I dare say. I'm not a strong man…. As for Dr. Quimper, he's a regular old woman – perfectly good doctor, understands my case - but inclined to wrap me up in cotton-wool. Got a bee in his bonnet about food. Went on at me Christmas-time when I had a bit of a turn - what did I eat?
The Three Ages of Woman
When? Who cooked it? Who served it? Fuss, fuss, fuss! But though I may have indifferent health, I'm well enough to give you all the help that's in my power. Murder in my own house - or at any rate in my own barn! Interesting building, that. Elizabethan. Local architect says not – but fellow doesn't know what he's talking about. Not a day later than 1580 - but that's not what we're talking about. What do you want to know? What's your present theory?"
"It's a little too early for theories, Mr. Crackenthorpe. We are still trying to find out who the woman was?"
"Foreigner, you say?"
"We think so."
"Enemy agent?"
"Unlikely, I should say."
Abstract Painting
"You are, of course, Mr. Crackenthorpe," said Craddock soothingly and rising as he spoke. "But we understood that you had already told Inspector Bacon all you knew, and that, your health not being good, we must not make too many demands upon it. Dr. Quimper said –"
"I dare say - I dare say. I'm not a strong man…. As for Dr. Quimper, he's a regular old woman – perfectly good doctor, understands my case - but inclined to wrap me up in cotton-wool. Got a bee in his bonnet about food. Went on at me Christmas-time when I had a bit of a turn - what did I eat?
The Three Ages of Woman
When? Who cooked it? Who served it? Fuss, fuss, fuss! But though I may have indifferent health, I'm well enough to give you all the help that's in my power. Murder in my own house - or at any rate in my own barn! Interesting building, that. Elizabethan. Local architect says not – but fellow doesn't know what he's talking about. Not a day later than 1580 - but that's not what we're talking about. What do you want to know? What's your present theory?"
"It's a little too early for theories, Mr. Crackenthorpe. We are still trying to find out who the woman was?"
"Foreigner, you say?"
"We think so."
"Enemy agent?"
"Unlikely, I should say."
Abstract Painting
Rembrandt Painting
Rembrandt Painting
Then I don't think we need worry you any more - for the present."
"Thank you."
She smiled briefly at them, got up, and left the room. Again he may have imagined it, but Craddock thought she moved rather quickly, as though a certain relief hurried her.
"Think she knows anything?" asked Bacon.
Inspector Craddock said ruefully:
"At a certain stage one is inclined to think everyone knows a little more than they are willing to tell you."
Rembrandt Painting
"They usually do, too," said Bacon out of the depth of his experience. "Only," he added, "it quite often isn't anything to do with the business in hand. It's some family peccadillo or some silly scrape that people are afraid is going to be dragged into the open."
"Yes, I know. Well, at least –"
But whatever Inspector Craddock had been about to say never got said, for the door was flung open and old Mr. Crackenthorpe shuffled in in a high state of indignation.
"A pretty pass, when Scotland Yard comes down and doesn't have the courtesy to talk to the head of the family first! Who's the master of this house, I'd like to know? Answer me that? Who's master here?"
Rembrandt Painting
Then I don't think we need worry you any more - for the present."
"Thank you."
She smiled briefly at them, got up, and left the room. Again he may have imagined it, but Craddock thought she moved rather quickly, as though a certain relief hurried her.
"Think she knows anything?" asked Bacon.
Inspector Craddock said ruefully:
"At a certain stage one is inclined to think everyone knows a little more than they are willing to tell you."
Rembrandt Painting
"They usually do, too," said Bacon out of the depth of his experience. "Only," he added, "it quite often isn't anything to do with the business in hand. It's some family peccadillo or some silly scrape that people are afraid is going to be dragged into the open."
"Yes, I know. Well, at least –"
But whatever Inspector Craddock had been about to say never got said, for the door was flung open and old Mr. Crackenthorpe shuffled in in a high state of indignation.
"A pretty pass, when Scotland Yard comes down and doesn't have the courtesy to talk to the head of the family first! Who's the master of this house, I'd like to know? Answer me that? Who's master here?"
Rembrandt Painting
The Singing Butler
The Singing Butler
"Did I? Yes, I believe I did. I don't really know why - except that one always tends to think foreigners are French until one finds out what nationality they really are. Most foreigners in this country are French, aren't they?"
"Oh, I really wouldn't say that was so, Miss Crackenthorpe. Not nowadays. We have so many nationalities over here, Italians, Germans, Austrians, all the Scandinavian countries –"
"Yes, I suppose you're right."
"You didn't have some special reason for thinking that this woman was likely to be French?"
She didn't hurry to deny it. She just thought a moment and then shook her head almost regretfully.
The Singing Butler
No," she said. "I really don't think so."
Her glance met his placidly, without flinching. Craddock looked towards Inspector Bacon. The latter leaned forward and presented a small enamel powder compact.
"Do you recognise this, Miss Crackenthorpe?"
She took it and examined it.
"No.It's certainly not mine."
"You've no idea to whom it belonged?"
"No."
The Singing Butler
"Did I? Yes, I believe I did. I don't really know why - except that one always tends to think foreigners are French until one finds out what nationality they really are. Most foreigners in this country are French, aren't they?"
"Oh, I really wouldn't say that was so, Miss Crackenthorpe. Not nowadays. We have so many nationalities over here, Italians, Germans, Austrians, all the Scandinavian countries –"
"Yes, I suppose you're right."
"You didn't have some special reason for thinking that this woman was likely to be French?"
She didn't hurry to deny it. She just thought a moment and then shook her head almost regretfully.
The Singing Butler
No," she said. "I really don't think so."
Her glance met his placidly, without flinching. Craddock looked towards Inspector Bacon. The latter leaned forward and presented a small enamel powder compact.
"Do you recognise this, Miss Crackenthorpe?"
She took it and examined it.
"No.It's certainly not mine."
"You've no idea to whom it belonged?"
"No."
The Singing Butler
Jack Vettriano Painting
Jack Vettriano Painting
"You've no idea of her name - of where she came from - anything at all?"
Craddock thought to himself: She wants to know – she's very anxious to know – who the woman is. Has she felt like that all along, I wonder? Bacon didn't give me that impression - and he's a shrewd man….
"We know nothing about her," he said. "That's why we hoped one of you could help us. Are you sure you can't? Even if you didn't recognise her - can you think of anyone she might be?"
Jack Vettriano Painting
He thought, but perhaps he imagined it, that there was a very slight pause before she answered.
"I've absolutely no idea," she said.
Imperceptibly, Inspector Craddock's manner changed. It was hardly noticeable except as a slight hardness in his voice.
"When Mr. Wimborne told you that the woman was a foreigner, why did you assume that she was French?"
Emma was not disconcerted. Her eyebrows rose slightly.
Jack Vettriano Painting
"You've no idea of her name - of where she came from - anything at all?"
Craddock thought to himself: She wants to know – she's very anxious to know – who the woman is. Has she felt like that all along, I wonder? Bacon didn't give me that impression - and he's a shrewd man….
"We know nothing about her," he said. "That's why we hoped one of you could help us. Are you sure you can't? Even if you didn't recognise her - can you think of anyone she might be?"
Jack Vettriano Painting
He thought, but perhaps he imagined it, that there was a very slight pause before she answered.
"I've absolutely no idea," she said.
Imperceptibly, Inspector Craddock's manner changed. It was hardly noticeable except as a slight hardness in his voice.
"When Mr. Wimborne told you that the woman was a foreigner, why did you assume that she was French?"
Emma was not disconcerted. Her eyebrows rose slightly.
Jack Vettriano Painting
Mary Cassatt painting
Mary Cassatt painting
Women such as this were often underrated. Behind their quiet exterior they had force of character, they were to be reckoned with. Perhaps, Craddock thought, the clue to the mystery of the dead woman in the sarcophagus was hidden away in the recesses of Emma's mind.
Whilst these thoughts were passing through his head, Craddock was asking various unimportant questions.
"I don't suppose there is much that you haven't already told Inspector Bacon," he said. "So I needn't worry you with many questions."
Mary Cassatt painting
Please ask me anything you like."
"As Mr. Wimborne told you, we have reached the conclusion that the dead woman was not a native of these parts. That may be a relief to you - Mr. Wimborne seemed to think it would be – but it makes it really more difficult for us. She's less easily identified."
"But didn't she have anything - a handbag? Papers?"
Craddock shook his head.
"No handbag, nothing in her pockets."
Mary Cassatt painting
Women such as this were often underrated. Behind their quiet exterior they had force of character, they were to be reckoned with. Perhaps, Craddock thought, the clue to the mystery of the dead woman in the sarcophagus was hidden away in the recesses of Emma's mind.
Whilst these thoughts were passing through his head, Craddock was asking various unimportant questions.
"I don't suppose there is much that you haven't already told Inspector Bacon," he said. "So I needn't worry you with many questions."
Mary Cassatt painting
Please ask me anything you like."
"As Mr. Wimborne told you, we have reached the conclusion that the dead woman was not a native of these parts. That may be a relief to you - Mr. Wimborne seemed to think it would be – but it makes it really more difficult for us. She's less easily identified."
"But didn't she have anything - a handbag? Papers?"
Craddock shook his head.
"No handbag, nothing in her pockets."
Mary Cassatt painting
Edward Hopper Painting
Edward Hopper Painting
"Better get young Alexander on the job. He and James Stoddart-West are out hunting for clues in a big way. Bet you they turn up something."
Inspector Craddock said he hoped they would. Then he thanked Bryan Eastley and said he would like to speak to Miss Emma Crackenthorpe.
Edward Hopper Painting
Inspector Craddock looked with more attention at Emma Crackenthorpe than he had done privily. He was still wondering about the expression that he had surprised on her face before lunch.
A quiet woman. Not stupid. Not brilliant either. One of those comfortable pleasant woman whom men were inclined to take for granted, and who had the art of making a house into a home, giving it an atmosphere of restfulness and quiet harmony. Such, he thought, was Emma Crackenthorpe.Edward Hopper Painting
"Better get young Alexander on the job. He and James Stoddart-West are out hunting for clues in a big way. Bet you they turn up something."
Inspector Craddock said he hoped they would. Then he thanked Bryan Eastley and said he would like to speak to Miss Emma Crackenthorpe.
Edward Hopper Painting
Inspector Craddock looked with more attention at Emma Crackenthorpe than he had done privily. He was still wondering about the expression that he had surprised on her face before lunch.
A quiet woman. Not stupid. Not brilliant either. One of those comfortable pleasant woman whom men were inclined to take for granted, and who had the art of making a house into a home, giving it an atmosphere of restfulness and quiet harmony. Such, he thought, was Emma Crackenthorpe.Edward Hopper Painting
Van Gogh Sunflower
Van Gogh Sunflower
Really? Gay Paree?" He shook his head. "On the whole it seems to make it even more unlikely, doesn't it? Messing about in the barn, I mean. You haven't had any other sarcophagus murders, have you? One of these fellows with an urge - or a complex? Thinks he's Caligula or someone like that?"
Inspector Craddock did not even trouble to reject this speculation. Instead he asked in a casual manner:
"Nobody in the family got any French connections, or - or - relationships that you know of?"
Bryan said that the Crackenthorpe weren't a very gay lot.
Van Gogh Sunflower
"Harold's respectably married," he said. "Fish-faced woman, some impoverished peer's daughter. Don't think Alfred cares about women much - spends his life going in for shady deals which usually go wrong in the end. I dare say Cedric's got a few Spanish senoritas jumping through hoops for him in Iviza. Women rather fall for Cedric. Doesn't always shave and looks as though he never washes. Don't see why that should be attractive to women, but apparently it is - I say, I'm not being very helpful, am I?"
He grinned at them.Van Gogh Sunflower
Really? Gay Paree?" He shook his head. "On the whole it seems to make it even more unlikely, doesn't it? Messing about in the barn, I mean. You haven't had any other sarcophagus murders, have you? One of these fellows with an urge - or a complex? Thinks he's Caligula or someone like that?"
Inspector Craddock did not even trouble to reject this speculation. Instead he asked in a casual manner:
"Nobody in the family got any French connections, or - or - relationships that you know of?"
Bryan said that the Crackenthorpe weren't a very gay lot.
Van Gogh Sunflower
"Harold's respectably married," he said. "Fish-faced woman, some impoverished peer's daughter. Don't think Alfred cares about women much - spends his life going in for shady deals which usually go wrong in the end. I dare say Cedric's got a few Spanish senoritas jumping through hoops for him in Iviza. Women rather fall for Cedric. Doesn't always shave and looks as though he never washes. Don't see why that should be attractive to women, but apparently it is - I say, I'm not being very helpful, am I?"
He grinned at them.Van Gogh Sunflower
Van Gogh Painting
Van Gogh Painting
I don't suppose you want to see me," said Bryan Eastley apologetically, coming into the room and hesitating by the door. "I don't exactly belong to the family –"
"Let me see, you are Mr. Bryan Eastley, the husband of Miss Edith Crackenthorpe, who died five years ago?"
"That's right."
"Well, it's very kind of you, Mr. Eastley, especially if you know something that you think could assist us in some way?"
"But I don't. Wish I did. Whole thing seems so ruddy peculiar, doesn't it? Coming along and meeting some fellow in that draughty old barn in the middle of winter. Wouldn't be my cup of tea."
Van Gogh Painting
It is certainly very perplexing," Inspector Craddock agreed.
"Is it true that she was a foreigner? Word seems to have got round to that effect."
"Does that fact suggest anything to you?" the inspector looked at him sharply, but Bryan seemed amiably vacuous.
"No, it doesn't, as a matter of fact."
"Maybe she was French," said Inspector Bacon, with dark suspicion.
Bryan was roused to slight animation. A look of interest came into his blue eyes, and he tugged at his big fair moustache.
Van Gogh Painting
I don't suppose you want to see me," said Bryan Eastley apologetically, coming into the room and hesitating by the door. "I don't exactly belong to the family –"
"Let me see, you are Mr. Bryan Eastley, the husband of Miss Edith Crackenthorpe, who died five years ago?"
"That's right."
"Well, it's very kind of you, Mr. Eastley, especially if you know something that you think could assist us in some way?"
"But I don't. Wish I did. Whole thing seems so ruddy peculiar, doesn't it? Coming along and meeting some fellow in that draughty old barn in the middle of winter. Wouldn't be my cup of tea."
Van Gogh Painting
It is certainly very perplexing," Inspector Craddock agreed.
"Is it true that she was a foreigner? Word seems to have got round to that effect."
"Does that fact suggest anything to you?" the inspector looked at him sharply, but Bryan seemed amiably vacuous.
"No, it doesn't, as a matter of fact."
"Maybe she was French," said Inspector Bacon, with dark suspicion.
Bryan was roused to slight animation. A look of interest came into his blue eyes, and he tugged at his big fair moustache.
Van Gogh Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
"It's quite an idea, that the woman might once have had a job here. Not as a lady's maid; I doubt if my sister has ever had such a thing. I don't think anyone has nowadays. But, of course, there is a good deal of foreign domestic labour floating about. We've had Poles - and a temperamental German or two. As Emma definitely didn't recognise the woman, I think that washes your idea out, Inspector, Emma's got a very good memory for a face. No, if the woman came from London…. What gives you the idea she came from London, by the way?"
He slipped the question in quite casually, but his eyes were sharp and interested.
Henri Matisse Painting
Inspector Craddock smiled and shook his head.
Alfred looked at him keenly.
"Not telling, eh? Return ticket in her coat pocket, perhaps, is that it?"
"It could be, Mr. Crackenthorpe."
"Well, granting she came from London, perhaps the chap she came to meet had the idea that the Long Barn would be a nice place to do a quiet murder. He knows the set up here, evidently. I should go looking for him if I were you, Inspector."
"We are," said Inspector Craddock, and made the two little words sound quiet and confident.
He thanked Alfred and dismissed him.
Henri Matisse Painting
"It's quite an idea, that the woman might once have had a job here. Not as a lady's maid; I doubt if my sister has ever had such a thing. I don't think anyone has nowadays. But, of course, there is a good deal of foreign domestic labour floating about. We've had Poles - and a temperamental German or two. As Emma definitely didn't recognise the woman, I think that washes your idea out, Inspector, Emma's got a very good memory for a face. No, if the woman came from London…. What gives you the idea she came from London, by the way?"
He slipped the question in quite casually, but his eyes were sharp and interested.
Henri Matisse Painting
Inspector Craddock smiled and shook his head.
Alfred looked at him keenly.
"Not telling, eh? Return ticket in her coat pocket, perhaps, is that it?"
"It could be, Mr. Crackenthorpe."
"Well, granting she came from London, perhaps the chap she came to meet had the idea that the Long Barn would be a nice place to do a quiet murder. He knows the set up here, evidently. I should go looking for him if I were you, Inspector."
"We are," said Inspector Craddock, and made the two little words sound quiet and confident.
He thanked Alfred and dismissed him.
Henri Matisse Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
Craddock looked at Alfred Crackenthorpe with a faint feeling of recognition. Surely he had seen this particular member of the family somewhere before? Or had it been his picture in the paper? There was something discreditable attached to the memory. He asked Alfred his occupation and Alfred's answer was vague.
"I'm in insurance at the moment. Until recently I've been interested in putting a new type of talking machine on the market. Quite revolutionary. I did very well out of that as a matter of fact."
Marc Chagall Painting
Inspector Craddock looked appreciative – and no one could have had the least idea that he was noticing the superficially smart appearance of Alfred's suit and gauging correctly the low price it had cost. Cedric's clothes had been disreputable, almost threadbare, but they had been originally of good cut and excellent material. Here there was a cheap smartness that told its own tale. Craddock passed pleasantly on to his routine questions. Alfred seemed interested – even slightly amused.
Marc Chagall Painting
Craddock looked at Alfred Crackenthorpe with a faint feeling of recognition. Surely he had seen this particular member of the family somewhere before? Or had it been his picture in the paper? There was something discreditable attached to the memory. He asked Alfred his occupation and Alfred's answer was vague.
"I'm in insurance at the moment. Until recently I've been interested in putting a new type of talking machine on the market. Quite revolutionary. I did very well out of that as a matter of fact."
Marc Chagall Painting
Inspector Craddock looked appreciative – and no one could have had the least idea that he was noticing the superficially smart appearance of Alfred's suit and gauging correctly the low price it had cost. Cedric's clothes had been disreputable, almost threadbare, but they had been originally of good cut and excellent material. Here there was a cheap smartness that told its own tale. Craddock passed pleasantly on to his routine questions. Alfred seemed interested – even slightly amused.
Marc Chagall Painting
The Birth of Venus
The Birth of Venus
And now," said Craddock, "we'll see what our correct City gentleman has to say about it all."
Harold Crackenthorpe, thin-lipped, had very little to say about it. It was most distasteful - a very unfortunate incident. The newspapers, he was afraid…. Reporters, he understood, had already been asking for interviews…. All that sort of thing…. Most regrettable….
Harold's staccato unfinished sentences ended. He leaned back in his chair with the expression of a man confronted with a very bad smell.
The Birth of Venus
The inspector's probing produced no result. No, he had no idea who the woman was or could be. He had been unable to come down until Christmas Eve - but had stayed on over the following week-end.
"That's that, then," said Inspector Craddock, without pressing his questions further. He had already made up his mind that Harold Crackenthorpe was not going to be helpful.
He passed on to Alfred, who came into the room with a nonchalance that seemed just a trifle overdone.
The Birth of Venus
And now," said Craddock, "we'll see what our correct City gentleman has to say about it all."
Harold Crackenthorpe, thin-lipped, had very little to say about it. It was most distasteful - a very unfortunate incident. The newspapers, he was afraid…. Reporters, he understood, had already been asking for interviews…. All that sort of thing…. Most regrettable….
Harold's staccato unfinished sentences ended. He leaned back in his chair with the expression of a man confronted with a very bad smell.
The Birth of Venus
The inspector's probing produced no result. No, he had no idea who the woman was or could be. He had been unable to come down until Christmas Eve - but had stayed on over the following week-end.
"That's that, then," said Inspector Craddock, without pressing his questions further. He had already made up his mind that Harold Crackenthorpe was not going to be helpful.
He passed on to Alfred, who came into the room with a nonchalance that seemed just a trifle overdone.
The Birth of Venus
William Bouguereau paintings
William Bouguereau paintings
Cocky enough for anything," he said. "I don't care for the type, myself. A loose-living lot, these artists, and very likely to be mixed up with a disreputable class of woman."Craddock smiled.
"I don't like the way he dresses, either," went on Bacon. "No respect - going to an inquest like that. Dirtiest pair of trousers I've seen in a long while. And did you see his tie? Looked as though it was made of coloured string. If you ask me, he's the kind that would easily strangle a woman and make no bones about it."
"Well, he didn't strangle this one - if he didn't leave Majorca until the 21st. And that's a thing we can verify easily enough."
Bacon threw him a sharp glance.
"I notice that you're not tipping your hand yet about the actual date of the crime."
"No, we'll keep that dark for the present. I always like to have something up my sleeve in the early stages."
Bacon nodded in full agreement.
"Spring it on 'em when the time comes," he said. "That's the best plan."
Bouguereau William
Gustav Klimt Painting
Gustav Klimt Painting
Cedric reflected.
"Let me see…. I flew. Got here on the Saturday before Christmas - that would be the 21st."
"You flew straight from Majorca?"
"Yes. Left at five in the morning and got here midday."
"And you left?"
"I flew back on the following Friday, the 27th."
"Thank you."
Cedric grinned.
Gustav Klimt Painting
Leaves me well within the limit, unfortunately. But really, Inspector, strangling young women is not my favourite form of Christmas fun."
"I hope not, Mr. Crackenthorpe."
Inspector Bacon merely looked disapproving.
"There would be a remarkable absence of peace and good will about such an action, don't you agree?"
Cedric addressed this question to Inspector Bacon who merely grunted. Inspector Craddock said politely:
"Well, thank you, Mr. Crackenthorpe. That will be all."
"And what do you think of him?" Craddock asked as Cedric shut the door behind him.
Bacon grunted again.
Gustav Klimt Painting
Cedric reflected.
"Let me see…. I flew. Got here on the Saturday before Christmas - that would be the 21st."
"You flew straight from Majorca?"
"Yes. Left at five in the morning and got here midday."
"And you left?"
"I flew back on the following Friday, the 27th."
"Thank you."
Cedric grinned.
Gustav Klimt Painting
Leaves me well within the limit, unfortunately. But really, Inspector, strangling young women is not my favourite form of Christmas fun."
"I hope not, Mr. Crackenthorpe."
Inspector Bacon merely looked disapproving.
"There would be a remarkable absence of peace and good will about such an action, don't you agree?"
Cedric addressed this question to Inspector Bacon who merely grunted. Inspector Craddock said politely:
"Well, thank you, Mr. Crackenthorpe. That will be all."
"And what do you think of him?" Craddock asked as Cedric shut the door behind him.
Bacon grunted again.
Gustav Klimt Painting
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
Gustav Klimt The Kiss Cedric shook his head.
"You're barking up the wrong tree. I've absolutely no idea. You're suggesting, I suppose, that she may have come to the Long Barn to keep an assignation with one of us? But we none of us live here. The only people in the house were a woman and an old man. You don't seriously believe that she came here to keep a date with my revered Pop?"
"Our point is - Inspector Bacon agrees with me - that the woman may once have had some association with this house. It may have been a considerable number of years ago. Cast your mind back, Mr. Crackenthorpe."
Cedric thought a moment or two, then shook his head.
"We've had foreign help from time to time, like most people, but I can't think of any likely possibility. Better ask the others - they’d know more than I would."
"We shall do that, of course."
Craddock leaned back in his chair and went on:
"As you have heard at the inquest, the medical evidence cannot fix the time of death very accurately. Longer than two weeks, less than four - which brings it somewhere around Christmas- time. You have told me you came home for Christmas. When did you arrive in England and when did you leave?"
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"You're barking up the wrong tree. I've absolutely no idea. You're suggesting, I suppose, that she may have come to the Long Barn to keep an assignation with one of us? But we none of us live here. The only people in the house were a woman and an old man. You don't seriously believe that she came here to keep a date with my revered Pop?"
"Our point is - Inspector Bacon agrees with me - that the woman may once have had some association with this house. It may have been a considerable number of years ago. Cast your mind back, Mr. Crackenthorpe."
Cedric thought a moment or two, then shook his head.
| William Bouguereau the first kiss Painting |
| gustav klimt the kiss painting |
"We've had foreign help from time to time, like most people, but I can't think of any likely possibility. Better ask the others - they’d know more than I would."
"We shall do that, of course."
Craddock leaned back in his chair and went on:
"As you have heard at the inquest, the medical evidence cannot fix the time of death very accurately. Longer than two weeks, less than four - which brings it somewhere around Christmas- time. You have told me you came home for Christmas. When did you arrive in England and when did you leave?"
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
Modern Art Painting
Modern Art Painting
"I see. It appealed to your sporting instincts and also to your family feelings. I've no doubt your sister will be very grateful to you - although her two other brothers have also come to be with her."
"But not to cheer and comfort," Cedric told him. "Harold is terrifically put out. It's not at all the thing for a City magnate to be mixed up with the murder of a questionable female."
Craddock's eyebrows rose gently.
Modern Art Painting
Was she - a questionable female?"
"Well, you're the authority on that point. Going by the facts, it seemed to me likely."
"I thought perhaps you might have been able to make a guess at who she was?"
"Come now, Inspector, you already know – or your colleagues will tell you, that I haven't been able to identify her."
"I said a guess, Mr. Crackenthorpe. You might never have seen the woman before - but you might have been able to make a guess at who she was - or who she might have been?"
Modern Art Painting
"I see. It appealed to your sporting instincts and also to your family feelings. I've no doubt your sister will be very grateful to you - although her two other brothers have also come to be with her."
"But not to cheer and comfort," Cedric told him. "Harold is terrifically put out. It's not at all the thing for a City magnate to be mixed up with the murder of a questionable female."
Craddock's eyebrows rose gently.
Modern Art Painting
Was she - a questionable female?"
"Well, you're the authority on that point. Going by the facts, it seemed to me likely."
"I thought perhaps you might have been able to make a guess at who she was?"
"Come now, Inspector, you already know – or your colleagues will tell you, that I haven't been able to identify her."
"I said a guess, Mr. Crackenthorpe. You might never have seen the woman before - but you might have been able to make a guess at who she was - or who she might have been?"
Modern Art Painting
Art Painting
Art Painting
Inspector Craddock was very pleasant and friendly.
"Sit down, Mr. Crackenthorpe. I understand you have just come back from the Balearics? You live out there?"
"Have done for the last six years. In Iviza. Suits me better than this dreary country."
"You get a good deal more sunshine than we do, I expect," said Inspector Craddock agreeably. "You were home not so very long ago, I understand – for Christmas, to be exact. What made it necessary for you to come back again so soon."
Cedric grinned.
Art Painting
Got a wire from Emma – my sister. We've never had a murder on the premises before. Didn't want to miss anything – so along I came."
"You are interested in criminology?"
"Oh, we needn't put it such highbrow terms! I just like murders - Whodunnits, and all that! With a Whodunnit parked right on the family doorsteps, it seemed the chance of a lifetime. Besides, I thought poor old Em might need a spot of help – managing the old man and the police and all the rest of it."
Art Painting
Inspector Craddock was very pleasant and friendly.
"Sit down, Mr. Crackenthorpe. I understand you have just come back from the Balearics? You live out there?"
"Have done for the last six years. In Iviza. Suits me better than this dreary country."
"You get a good deal more sunshine than we do, I expect," said Inspector Craddock agreeably. "You were home not so very long ago, I understand – for Christmas, to be exact. What made it necessary for you to come back again so soon."
Cedric grinned.
Art Painting
Got a wire from Emma – my sister. We've never had a murder on the premises before. Didn't want to miss anything – so along I came."
"You are interested in criminology?"
"Oh, we needn't put it such highbrow terms! I just like murders - Whodunnits, and all that! With a Whodunnit parked right on the family doorsteps, it seemed the chance of a lifetime. Besides, I thought poor old Em might need a spot of help – managing the old man and the police and all the rest of it."
Art Painting
Famous painting
Famous painting
The only people who really did justice to Lucy's excellent lunch were the two boys and Cedric Crackenthorpe who appeared completed unaffected by the circumstances which had caused him to return to England. He seemed, indeed, to regard the whole thing as a rather good joke of a macabre nature.
Famous painting
This attitude, Lucy noted, was most unpalatable to his brother Harold. Harold seemed to take the murder as a kind of personal insult to the Crackenthorpe family and so great was his sense of outrage that he ate hardly any lunch. Emma looked worried and unhappy and also ate very little. Alfred seemed lost in a train of thought of his own and spoke very little. He was quite a good-looking man with a thin dark face and eyes set rather too close together.
After lunch the police officers returned and politely asked if they could have a few words with Mr. Cedric Crackenthorpe.
Famous painting
The only people who really did justice to Lucy's excellent lunch were the two boys and Cedric Crackenthorpe who appeared completed unaffected by the circumstances which had caused him to return to England. He seemed, indeed, to regard the whole thing as a rather good joke of a macabre nature.
Famous painting
This attitude, Lucy noted, was most unpalatable to his brother Harold. Harold seemed to take the murder as a kind of personal insult to the Crackenthorpe family and so great was his sense of outrage that he ate hardly any lunch. Emma looked worried and unhappy and also ate very little. Alfred seemed lost in a train of thought of his own and spoke very little. He was quite a good-looking man with a thin dark face and eyes set rather too close together.
After lunch the police officers returned and politely asked if they could have a few words with Mr. Cedric Crackenthorpe.
Famous painting
Famous artist painting
Famous artist painting
. Wimborne took Emma's hand in his.
"There's nothing to worry about, my dear," he said. "This is Detective-Inspector Craddock from New Scotland Yard who has come down to take charge of the case. He is coming back at two-fifteen to ask you for any facts that may assist him in his inquiry. But, as I say, you have nothing to worry about." He looked towards Craddock. "I may repeat to Miss Crackenthorpe what you have told me?"
"Certainly, sir."
Famous artist painting
Inspector Craddock has just told me that this almost certainly was not a local crime. The murdered woman is thought to have come from London and was probably a foreigner."
Emma Crackenthorpe said sharply:
"A foreigner. Was she French?"
Mr. Wimborne had clearly meant his statement to be consoling. He looked slightly taken aback. Dermot Craddock's glance went quickly from him to Emma's face.
He wondered why she had leaped to the conclusion that the murdered woman was French, and why that thought disturbed her so much?
Famous artist painting
. Wimborne took Emma's hand in his.
"There's nothing to worry about, my dear," he said. "This is Detective-Inspector Craddock from New Scotland Yard who has come down to take charge of the case. He is coming back at two-fifteen to ask you for any facts that may assist him in his inquiry. But, as I say, you have nothing to worry about." He looked towards Craddock. "I may repeat to Miss Crackenthorpe what you have told me?"
"Certainly, sir."
Famous artist painting
Inspector Craddock has just told me that this almost certainly was not a local crime. The murdered woman is thought to have come from London and was probably a foreigner."
Emma Crackenthorpe said sharply:
"A foreigner. Was she French?"
Mr. Wimborne had clearly meant his statement to be consoling. He looked slightly taken aback. Dermot Craddock's glance went quickly from him to Emma's face.
He wondered why she had leaped to the conclusion that the murdered woman was French, and why that thought disturbed her so much?
Famous artist painting
Gustav Klimt lady with fan Painting
Gustav Klimt lady with fan Painting
"I don't suppose Aunt Emma would mind…. She's very hospitable. But I suppose Uncle Harold wouldn't like it. He's being very sticky over this murder." Alexander went out through the door with the tray adding a little additional information over his shoulder. "Mr. Wimborne's in the library with the Scotland Yard man now. But he isn't staying to lunch. He said he had to get back to London. Come on, Stodders. Oh, he's gone to do the gong."
At that moment the gong took charge. Stoddart-West was an artist. He gave it everything he had, and all further conversation was inhibited.
Gustav Klimt lady with fan Painting
Bryan carried in the joint, Lucy followed with the vegetables - returned to the kitchen to get the two brimming sauce-boats of gravy.
Mr. Wimborne was standing in the hall putting on his gloves - as Emma came quickly down the stairs.
"Are you really sure you won't stop for lunch, Mr. Wimborne? It's all ready."
"No.I've an important appointment in London. There is a restaurant car on the train."
"It was very good of you to come down," said Emma gratefully.
The two police officers emerged from the library.
Decorative painting
"I don't suppose Aunt Emma would mind…. She's very hospitable. But I suppose Uncle Harold wouldn't like it. He's being very sticky over this murder." Alexander went out through the door with the tray adding a little additional information over his shoulder. "Mr. Wimborne's in the library with the Scotland Yard man now. But he isn't staying to lunch. He said he had to get back to London. Come on, Stodders. Oh, he's gone to do the gong."
At that moment the gong took charge. Stoddart-West was an artist. He gave it everything he had, and all further conversation was inhibited.
Gustav Klimt lady with fan Painting
Bryan carried in the joint, Lucy followed with the vegetables - returned to the kitchen to get the two brimming sauce-boats of gravy.
Mr. Wimborne was standing in the hall putting on his gloves - as Emma came quickly down the stairs.
"Are you really sure you won't stop for lunch, Mr. Wimborne? It's all ready."
"No.I've an important appointment in London. There is a restaurant car on the train."
"It was very good of you to come down," said Emma gratefully.
The two police officers emerged from the library.
Decorative painting
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Abstract Painting The Three Ages of Woman
Abstract Painting
That night she wrote and posted a letter addressed to Miss Florence Hill, 4 Madison Road, Brackhampton…. On the following morning, going to the County library, she studies a Brackhampton directory and gazetteer, and a County history.
Nothing so far had contradicted the very faint and sketchy idea that had come to her. What she imagined was possible. She would go no further than that.
The Three Ages of Woman
But the next step involved action – a good deal of action - the kind of actin for which she, herself, was physically unfit. If her theory were to be definitely proved or disproved, she must at this point have help from some other person. The question was – who? Miss Marple reviewed various names and possibilities rejecting them all with a vexed shake of the head. The intelligent people on whose intelligence she could rely were all far too busy. Not only had they all got jobs of varying importance, their leisure hours were usually apportioned long beforehand. The unintelligent who had time on their hands were simply, Miss Marple decided, no good.
Abstract Painting
That night she wrote and posted a letter addressed to Miss Florence Hill, 4 Madison Road, Brackhampton…. On the following morning, going to the County library, she studies a Brackhampton directory and gazetteer, and a County history.
Nothing so far had contradicted the very faint and sketchy idea that had come to her. What she imagined was possible. She would go no further than that.
The Three Ages of Woman
But the next step involved action – a good deal of action - the kind of actin for which she, herself, was physically unfit. If her theory were to be definitely proved or disproved, she must at this point have help from some other person. The question was – who? Miss Marple reviewed various names and possibilities rejecting them all with a vexed shake of the head. The intelligent people on whose intelligence she could rely were all far too busy. Not only had they all got jobs of varying importance, their leisure hours were usually apportioned long beforehand. The unintelligent who had time on their hands were simply, Miss Marple decided, no good.
Abstract Painting
Rembrandt Painting
Rembrandt Painting
On the next day she went up by the early morning train, purchased four linen pillow-cases (tut-tutting at the price!) so as to combine investigation with the provision of household necessities, and returned by a train leaving Paddington at twelve-fifteen. Again she was alone in a first-class carriage. "This taxation," thought Miss Marple, “that's what it is. No on can afford to travel first class except business men in the rush hours. I suppose because they can charge it to expenses."
About a quarter
Rembrandt Painting
quarter of an hour before the train was due at Brackhampton, Miss Marple got out the map with which Leonard had supplied her and began to observe the country-side. She had studied the map very carefully beforehand, and after noting the name of a station they passed through, she was soon able to identify where she was just as the train began to slacken for a curve. It was a very considerable curve indeed. Miss Marple, her nose glued to the window, studies the ground beneath her (the train was running on a fairly high embankment) with close attention. She divided her attention between the country outside and her map until the train finally ran into Brackhampton.
Rembrandt Painting
On the next day she went up by the early morning train, purchased four linen pillow-cases (tut-tutting at the price!) so as to combine investigation with the provision of household necessities, and returned by a train leaving Paddington at twelve-fifteen. Again she was alone in a first-class carriage. "This taxation," thought Miss Marple, “that's what it is. No on can afford to travel first class except business men in the rush hours. I suppose because they can charge it to expenses."
About a quarter
Rembrandt Painting
quarter of an hour before the train was due at Brackhampton, Miss Marple got out the map with which Leonard had supplied her and began to observe the country-side. She had studied the map very carefully beforehand, and after noting the name of a station they passed through, she was soon able to identify where she was just as the train began to slacken for a curve. It was a very considerable curve indeed. Miss Marple, her nose glued to the window, studies the ground beneath her (the train was running on a fairly high embankment) with close attention. She divided her attention between the country outside and her map until the train finally ran into Brackhampton.
Rembrandt Painting
The Singing Butler
The Singing Butler
but by the 4.33 as far as Brackhampton. The journey was uneventful, but she registered certain details. The train was not crowded – 4.33 was before the evening rush hour. Of the first-class carriages only one had an occupant - a very old gentleman reading the new statesman. Miss Marple travelled in an empty compartment and at the two stops, Haling Broadway and Barwell Heath, leaned out of the window to observe passengers entering and leaving the train. A small number of third-class passengers got in at Haling Broadway. At Barwell Heath several third-class passengers got out. Nobody entered or left a first-class carriage except the old gentleman carrying his new statesman.
The Singing Butler
with her back to the window over which she had drawn down the blind.
Yes, she decided, the impetus of the sudden curving of the line and the slackening of speed did throw one off one's balance back against the window and the blind might, in consequence, very easily fly up. She peered out into the night. It was lighter than it had been when Mrs. McGillicuddy had made the same journey - only just dark, but there was little to see. For observation she must make a daylight journey.The Singing Butler
but by the 4.33 as far as Brackhampton. The journey was uneventful, but she registered certain details. The train was not crowded – 4.33 was before the evening rush hour. Of the first-class carriages only one had an occupant - a very old gentleman reading the new statesman. Miss Marple travelled in an empty compartment and at the two stops, Haling Broadway and Barwell Heath, leaned out of the window to observe passengers entering and leaving the train. A small number of third-class passengers got in at Haling Broadway. At Barwell Heath several third-class passengers got out. Nobody entered or left a first-class carriage except the old gentleman carrying his new statesman.
The Singing Butler
with her back to the window over which she had drawn down the blind.
Yes, she decided, the impetus of the sudden curving of the line and the slackening of speed did throw one off one's balance back against the window and the blind might, in consequence, very easily fly up. She peered out into the night. It was lighter than it had been when Mrs. McGillicuddy had made the same journey - only just dark, but there was little to see. For observation she must make a daylight journey.The Singing Butler
Jack Vettriano Painting
Jack Vettriano Painting
In all this do I smell some village scandal of a fruity character? Did you, returning from a shopping spree in town by the 4.50, observe in a passing train the Mayor's wife being embraced by the Sanitary Inspector? But why does it matter which train it was? A week-end at Porthcawl perhaps? Thankyou for the pullover. Just what I wanted. How's the garden? Not very active this time of the year, I should imagine.
Yours ever,
David"
Jack Vettriano Painting
Miss Marple smiled a little, then considered the information thus presented to her. Mrs. McGillicuddy had said definitely that the carriage had not been a corridor one. Therefore - not the Swansea express. The 4.33 was indicated.
Also some more travelling seemed unavoidable. Miss Marple sighed, but made her plans.
She went up to London as before on the 12.15, but this time returned not by the 4.50
Jack Vettriano Painting
In all this do I smell some village scandal of a fruity character? Did you, returning from a shopping spree in town by the 4.50, observe in a passing train the Mayor's wife being embraced by the Sanitary Inspector? But why does it matter which train it was? A week-end at Porthcawl perhaps? Thankyou for the pullover. Just what I wanted. How's the garden? Not very active this time of the year, I should imagine.
Yours ever,
David"
Jack Vettriano Painting
Miss Marple smiled a little, then considered the information thus presented to her. Mrs. McGillicuddy had said definitely that the carriage had not been a corridor one. Therefore - not the Swansea express. The 4.33 was indicated.
Also some more travelling seemed unavoidable. Miss Marple sighed, but made her plans.
She went up to London as before on the 12.15, but this time returned not by the 4.50
Jack Vettriano Painting
Mary Cassatt painting
Mary Cassatt painting
Maps," said his mother, Griselda, who still, although she had a grown-up son, looked strangely young and blooming to be inhabiting the shabby old vicarage. "What does she want this map? I mean, what does she want them for?"
"I don't know," said young Leonard, "I don't think she said exactly."
"I wonder now…” said Griselda. "It seems very fishy to me…. At her age the old pet ought to give up that sort of thing."
Leonard asked what sort of thing, and Griselda said elusively:
"Oh, poking her nose into things. Why maps, I wonder?"
In due course Miss Marple received a letter from her great-nephew David West. It ran affectionately
Mary Cassatt painting
Dear Aunt Jane, - Now what are you up to? I've got the information you wanted. There are only two trains that can possibly apply - the 4.33 and the 5 o’clock. The former is a slow train and stops at Haling Broadway, Barwell Heath, Brackhampton and then stations to Market Basing. The 5 o’clock is the Welsh express for Cardiff, Newport and Swansea. The former might be overtaken somewhere by the 4.50, although it is due in Brackhampton five minutes earlier and the latter passes the 4.50 just before Brackhampton.
Mary Cassatt painting
Maps," said his mother, Griselda, who still, although she had a grown-up son, looked strangely young and blooming to be inhabiting the shabby old vicarage. "What does she want this map? I mean, what does she want them for?"
"I don't know," said young Leonard, "I don't think she said exactly."
"I wonder now…” said Griselda. "It seems very fishy to me…. At her age the old pet ought to give up that sort of thing."
Leonard asked what sort of thing, and Griselda said elusively:
"Oh, poking her nose into things. Why maps, I wonder?"
In due course Miss Marple received a letter from her great-nephew David West. It ran affectionately
Mary Cassatt painting
Dear Aunt Jane, - Now what are you up to? I've got the information you wanted. There are only two trains that can possibly apply - the 4.33 and the 5 o’clock. The former is a slow train and stops at Haling Broadway, Barwell Heath, Brackhampton and then stations to Market Basing. The 5 o’clock is the Welsh express for Cardiff, Newport and Swansea. The former might be overtaken somewhere by the 4.50, although it is due in Brackhampton five minutes earlier and the latter passes the 4.50 just before Brackhampton.
Mary Cassatt painting
Edward Hopper Painting
Edward Hopper Painting
And at the same time another valuable asset flashed through her mind.
"Of course. My faithful Florence!"
II
Miss Marple set about her plan of campaign methodically and making due allowance for the Christmas season which was a definitely retarding factor.
She wrote to her great-nephew, David West, combining Christmas wishes with an urgent request for information.
Fortunately she was invited, as on previous years, to the vicarage for Christmas
Edward Hopper Painting
Fortunately she was invited, as on previous years, to the vicarage for Christmas dinner, and here she was able to tackle young Leonard, home for the Christmas season, about maps.
Maps of all kinds were Leonard's passion. The reason for the old lady's inquiry about a large-scale map of a particular area did not rouse his curiosity. He discoursed on maps generally with fluency, and wrote down for her exactly what would suit her purpose best. In fact, he did better. He actually found that he had such a map amongst his collection and he lent it to her, Miss Marple promising to take great care of it and return it in due course.
Edward Hopper Painting
And at the same time another valuable asset flashed through her mind.
"Of course. My faithful Florence!"
II
Miss Marple set about her plan of campaign methodically and making due allowance for the Christmas season which was a definitely retarding factor.
She wrote to her great-nephew, David West, combining Christmas wishes with an urgent request for information.
Fortunately she was invited, as on previous years, to the vicarage for Christmas
Edward Hopper Painting
Fortunately she was invited, as on previous years, to the vicarage for Christmas dinner, and here she was able to tackle young Leonard, home for the Christmas season, about maps.
Maps of all kinds were Leonard's passion. The reason for the old lady's inquiry about a large-scale map of a particular area did not rouse his curiosity. He discoursed on maps generally with fluency, and wrote down for her exactly what would suit her purpose best. In fact, he did better. He actually found that he had such a map amongst his collection and he lent it to her, Miss Marple promising to take great care of it and return it in due course.
Edward Hopper Painting
Van Gogh Sunflower
Van Gogh Sunflower
It is not," thought Miss Marple, "as though I could go here, there and everywhere, making inquiries and finding out things."
Yes, that was the chief objection, her own age and weakness. Although, for her age, her health was good, yet she was old. And if Dr. Haydock had strictly forbidden her to do practical gardening he would hardly approve of her starting out to track down a murderer. For that, in effect, was what she was planning to do - and it was there that her loophole lay. For if heretofore murder had, so to speak, been forced upon her, in this case it would be that she herself set out deliberately to seek it. And she was not sure that she wanted to do so…. She was old - old and tired. She felt at this moment, at the end of a tiring day, a great reluctance to enter upon any project at all. She wanted nothing at all but to reach home and sit by the fire with a nice tray of supper, and go to bed, and potter about the next day just snipping off a few things in the garden, tidying up a very mild way, without stooping, without exerting herself….
Van Gogh Sunflower
I'm too old for any more adventures," said Miss Marple to herself, watching absently out of her window the curving line of an embankment….
A curve….
Very faintly something stirred in her mind…. Just after the ticket collector had clipped their tickets….
It suggested an idea. Only an idea. An entirely different idea….
A little pink flush came into Miss Marple's face. Suddenly she did not feel tired at all!
"I'll write to David to-morrow morning," she said to herself.
Van Gogh Sunflower
It is not," thought Miss Marple, "as though I could go here, there and everywhere, making inquiries and finding out things."
Yes, that was the chief objection, her own age and weakness. Although, for her age, her health was good, yet she was old. And if Dr. Haydock had strictly forbidden her to do practical gardening he would hardly approve of her starting out to track down a murderer. For that, in effect, was what she was planning to do - and it was there that her loophole lay. For if heretofore murder had, so to speak, been forced upon her, in this case it would be that she herself set out deliberately to seek it. And she was not sure that she wanted to do so…. She was old - old and tired. She felt at this moment, at the end of a tiring day, a great reluctance to enter upon any project at all. She wanted nothing at all but to reach home and sit by the fire with a nice tray of supper, and go to bed, and potter about the next day just snipping off a few things in the garden, tidying up a very mild way, without stooping, without exerting herself….
Van Gogh Sunflower
I'm too old for any more adventures," said Miss Marple to herself, watching absently out of her window the curving line of an embankment….
A curve….
Very faintly something stirred in her mind…. Just after the ticket collector had clipped their tickets….
It suggested an idea. Only an idea. An entirely different idea….
A little pink flush came into Miss Marple's face. Suddenly she did not feel tired at all!
"I'll write to David to-morrow morning," she said to herself.
Van Gogh Sunflower
Van Gogh Painting
Van Gogh Painting
Miss Marple did not lean back as the train gathered speed. Instead she sat upright and devoted herself seriously to thought. Though in speech Miss Marple was woolly and diffuse, in mind she was clear and sharp. She had a problem to solve, the problem of her own future conduct; and, perhaps strangely, it presented itself to her as it had to Mrs. McGillicuddy, as a question of duty.
Mrs. McGillicuddy had said that they had both done all that they could do. It was true of Mrs. McGillicuddy but about herself Miss Marple did not feel so sure.
Van Gogh Painting
was a question, sometimes, of using one's special gifts…. But perhaps that was conceited…. After all, what could she do? Her friend's words came back to her, "You're not so young as you were…."
Dispassionately, like a general planning a campaign, or an accountant assessing a business, Miss Marple weighed up and set down in her mind the facts for and against further enterprise. On the credit side were the following:
My long experience of life and human nature.
Sir Henry Clithering and his godson (now at Scotland Yard, I believe), who was so very nice in the Little Paddocks case.
My nephew Raymond's second boy, David, who is, I am almost sure, in British Railways.
Griselda's boy Leonard who is so very knowledgeable about maps.
Miss Marple reviewed these assets and approved them. They were all very necessary, to reinforce the weaknesses on the debit side – in particular her own bodily weakness.
Van Gogh Painting
Miss Marple did not lean back as the train gathered speed. Instead she sat upright and devoted herself seriously to thought. Though in speech Miss Marple was woolly and diffuse, in mind she was clear and sharp. She had a problem to solve, the problem of her own future conduct; and, perhaps strangely, it presented itself to her as it had to Mrs. McGillicuddy, as a question of duty.
Mrs. McGillicuddy had said that they had both done all that they could do. It was true of Mrs. McGillicuddy but about herself Miss Marple did not feel so sure.
Van Gogh Painting
was a question, sometimes, of using one's special gifts…. But perhaps that was conceited…. After all, what could she do? Her friend's words came back to her, "You're not so young as you were…."
Dispassionately, like a general planning a campaign, or an accountant assessing a business, Miss Marple weighed up and set down in her mind the facts for and against further enterprise. On the credit side were the following:
My long experience of life and human nature.
Sir Henry Clithering and his godson (now at Scotland Yard, I believe), who was so very nice in the Little Paddocks case.
My nephew Raymond's second boy, David, who is, I am almost sure, in British Railways.
Griselda's boy Leonard who is so very knowledgeable about maps.
Miss Marple reviewed these assets and approved them. They were all very necessary, to reinforce the weaknesses on the debit side – in particular her own bodily weakness.
Van Gogh Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
I know," said Miss Marple.
"And don't let's worry ourselves any more over all this. We've done what we could."
Miss Marple nodded, and said:
"Don't stand about in the cold, Elspeth. Or you'll be the one to catch a chill. Go and get yourself a good hot cup of tea in the Refreshment Room. You've got time, twelve minutes before your train back to town."
"I think perhaps I will. Good-bye, Jane."
"Good-bye, Elspeth. A happy Christmas to you. I hope you find Margaret well. Enjoy yourself in Ceylon, and give my love to dear Roderick – if he remembers me at all, which I doubt."
Henri Matisse Painting
"Of course he remembers you – very well. You helped him in some way when he was at school – something to do with money that was disappearing from a locker – he's never forgotten it."
"Oh, that!" said Miss Marple.
Mrs. McGillicuddy turned away, a whistle blew, the train began to move. Miss Marple watched the sturdy thickset body of her friend recede. Elspeth could go to Ceylon with a clear conscience - she had done her duty and was freed from further obligation.Henri Matisse Painting
I know," said Miss Marple.
"And don't let's worry ourselves any more over all this. We've done what we could."
Miss Marple nodded, and said:
"Don't stand about in the cold, Elspeth. Or you'll be the one to catch a chill. Go and get yourself a good hot cup of tea in the Refreshment Room. You've got time, twelve minutes before your train back to town."
"I think perhaps I will. Good-bye, Jane."
"Good-bye, Elspeth. A happy Christmas to you. I hope you find Margaret well. Enjoy yourself in Ceylon, and give my love to dear Roderick – if he remembers me at all, which I doubt."
Henri Matisse Painting
"Of course he remembers you – very well. You helped him in some way when he was at school – something to do with money that was disappearing from a locker – he's never forgotten it."
"Oh, that!" said Miss Marple.
Mrs. McGillicuddy turned away, a whistle blew, the train began to move. Miss Marple watched the sturdy thickset body of her friend recede. Elspeth could go to Ceylon with a clear conscience - she had done her duty and was freed from further obligation.Henri Matisse Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
I know," said Miss Marple.
"And don't let's worry ourselves any more over all this. We've done what we could."
Miss Marple nodded, and said:
"Don't stand about in the cold, Elspeth. Or you'll be the one to catch a chill. Go and get yourself a good hot cup of tea in the Refreshment Room. You've got time, twelve minutes before your train back to town."
"I think perhaps I will. Good-bye, Jane."
"Good-bye, Elspeth. A happy Christmas to you. I hope you find Margaret well. Enjoy yourself in Ceylon, and give my love to dear Roderick – if he remembers me at all, which I doubt."
Henri Matisse Painting
"Of course he remembers you – very well. You helped him in some way when he was at school – something to do with money that was disappearing from a locker – he's never forgotten it."
"Oh, that!" said Miss Marple.
Mrs. McGillicuddy turned away, a whistle blew, the train began to move. Miss Marple watched the sturdy thickset body of her friend recede. Elspeth could go to Ceylon with a clear conscience - she had done her duty and was freed from further obligation.Henri Matisse Painting
I know," said Miss Marple.
"And don't let's worry ourselves any more over all this. We've done what we could."
Miss Marple nodded, and said:
"Don't stand about in the cold, Elspeth. Or you'll be the one to catch a chill. Go and get yourself a good hot cup of tea in the Refreshment Room. You've got time, twelve minutes before your train back to town."
"I think perhaps I will. Good-bye, Jane."
"Good-bye, Elspeth. A happy Christmas to you. I hope you find Margaret well. Enjoy yourself in Ceylon, and give my love to dear Roderick – if he remembers me at all, which I doubt."
Henri Matisse Painting
"Of course he remembers you – very well. You helped him in some way when he was at school – something to do with money that was disappearing from a locker – he's never forgotten it."
"Oh, that!" said Miss Marple.
Mrs. McGillicuddy turned away, a whistle blew, the train began to move. Miss Marple watched the sturdy thickset body of her friend recede. Elspeth could go to Ceylon with a clear conscience - she had done her duty and was freed from further obligation.Henri Matisse Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
All the same," said Miss Marple, "one likes to see with one's own eyes where a thing happened. This train's just a few minutes late. Was yours on time on Friday?"
"I think so. I didn't really notice."
The train drew slowly into the busy length of Brackhampton station. The loudspeaker announced hoarsely, doors opened and shut, people got in and out, milled up and down the platform. It was a busy crowded scene.
Marc Chagall Painting
Easy, thought Miss Marple, for a murderer to merge into that crowd, to leave the station in the midst of that pressing mass of people, or even to select another carriage and go on in the train to wherever its ultimate destination might be. Easy to be one male passenger amongst many. But not so easy to make a body vanish into thin air. That body must be somewhere.
Mrs. McGillicuddy had descended. She spoke now from the platform, through the open window.
"Now take care of yourself, Jane," she said. "Don't catch a chill. It's a nasty treacherous time of year, and you're not so young as you were."
Marc Chagall Painting
All the same," said Miss Marple, "one likes to see with one's own eyes where a thing happened. This train's just a few minutes late. Was yours on time on Friday?"
"I think so. I didn't really notice."
The train drew slowly into the busy length of Brackhampton station. The loudspeaker announced hoarsely, doors opened and shut, people got in and out, milled up and down the platform. It was a busy crowded scene.
Marc Chagall Painting
Easy, thought Miss Marple, for a murderer to merge into that crowd, to leave the station in the midst of that pressing mass of people, or even to select another carriage and go on in the train to wherever its ultimate destination might be. Easy to be one male passenger amongst many. But not so easy to make a body vanish into thin air. That body must be somewhere.
Mrs. McGillicuddy had descended. She spoke now from the platform, through the open window.
"Now take care of yourself, Jane," she said. "Don't catch a chill. It's a nasty treacherous time of year, and you're not so young as you were."
Marc Chagall Painting
The Birth of Venus
The Birth of Venus
A ticket collector appeared in the doorway. Miss Marple raised her eyes interrogatively. Mrs. McGillicuddy shook her head. It was not the same ticket collector. He clipped their tickets, and passed on staggering just a little as the train swung round a long curve. It slackened speed as it did so.
"I expect we're coming into Brackhampton," said Mrs. McGillicuddy.
"We're getting into the outskirts, I think," said Miss Marple.
There were lights flashing past outside, buildings, an occasional glimpse
The Birth of Venus
There were lights flashing past outside, buildings, an occasional glimpse of streets and trams. Their speed slackened further. They began crossing points.
"We'll be there in a minute," said Mrs. McGillicuddy, "and I can't really see this journey has been any good at all. Has it suggested anything to you, Jane?"
"I'm afraid not," said Miss Marple in a rather doubtful voice.
"A sad waste of good money," said Mrs. McGillicuddy, but with less disapproval than she would have used had she been paying for herself. Miss Marple had been quite adamant on that point.The Birth of Venus
A ticket collector appeared in the doorway. Miss Marple raised her eyes interrogatively. Mrs. McGillicuddy shook her head. It was not the same ticket collector. He clipped their tickets, and passed on staggering just a little as the train swung round a long curve. It slackened speed as it did so.
"I expect we're coming into Brackhampton," said Mrs. McGillicuddy.
"We're getting into the outskirts, I think," said Miss Marple.
There were lights flashing past outside, buildings, an occasional glimpse
The Birth of Venus
There were lights flashing past outside, buildings, an occasional glimpse of streets and trams. Their speed slackened further. They began crossing points.
"We'll be there in a minute," said Mrs. McGillicuddy, "and I can't really see this journey has been any good at all. Has it suggested anything to you, Jane?"
"I'm afraid not," said Miss Marple in a rather doubtful voice.
"A sad waste of good money," said Mrs. McGillicuddy, but with less disapproval than she would have used had she been paying for herself. Miss Marple had been quite adamant on that point.The Birth of Venus
William Bouguereau paintings
William Bouguereau paintings
What on earth do you expect, Jane?" she asked. "Another murder?"
"Certainly not," said Miss Marple shocked. "But I confess I should like to see for myself, under your guidance, the - the – really it is most difficult to find the correct term – the terrain of the crime."
So accordingly on the following day Miss Marple and Mrs. McGillicuddy found themselves in two opposite corners of a first-class carriage speeding out of London by the 4.50 from Paddington. Paddington had been even more crowded than on the preceding Friday - as there were now only two days to go before Christmas, but the 4.50 was comparatively peaceful – at any rate, in the rear portion.
William Bouguereau paintings
this occasion no train drew level with them, or they with another train. At intervals trains flashed past them towards London. On two occasions trains flashed past them the other way going at high speed. At intervals Mrs. McGillicuddy consulted her watch doubtfully.
"It's hard to tell just when - we'd passed through a station I know…. But they were continually passing through stations."
"We're due in Brackhampton in five minutes," said Miss Marple.
Bouguereau William
Gustav Klimt Painting
Gustav Klimt Painting
Mrs. McGillicuddy spoke to her twice before Miss Marple answered.
"You're getting deaf, Jane."
"Just a little, perhaps. People do not seem to me to enunciate their words as clearly as they used to do. But it wasn't that I didn't hear you. I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention."
"I just asked about the trains to London to-morrow. Would the afternoon be all right? I'm going to Margaret's and she isn't expecting me before teatime."
"I wonder, Elspeth, if you would mind going up by the 12.15? We could have an early lunch."
"Of course and –” Miss Marple went on, drowning her friend's words:
Gustav Klimt Painting
And I wonder, too, if Margaret would mind if you didn't arrive for tea - if you arrived about seven, perhaps?"
Mrs. McGillicuddy looked at her friend curiously.
"What's on your mind, Jane?"
"I suggest, Elspeth, that I should travel up to London with you, and that we should travel down again as far as Brackhampton in the train you travelled by the other day. You would then return to London from Brackhampton and I would come on here as you did. I, of course, would pay the fares," Miss Marple stressed this point firmly.
Mrs. McGillicuddy ignored the financial aspect.
Gustav Klimt Painting
Mrs. McGillicuddy spoke to her twice before Miss Marple answered.
"You're getting deaf, Jane."
"Just a little, perhaps. People do not seem to me to enunciate their words as clearly as they used to do. But it wasn't that I didn't hear you. I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention."
"I just asked about the trains to London to-morrow. Would the afternoon be all right? I'm going to Margaret's and she isn't expecting me before teatime."
"I wonder, Elspeth, if you would mind going up by the 12.15? We could have an early lunch."
"Of course and –” Miss Marple went on, drowning her friend's words:
Gustav Klimt Painting
And I wonder, too, if Margaret would mind if you didn't arrive for tea - if you arrived about seven, perhaps?"
Mrs. McGillicuddy looked at her friend curiously.
"What's on your mind, Jane?"
"I suggest, Elspeth, that I should travel up to London with you, and that we should travel down again as far as Brackhampton in the train you travelled by the other day. You would then return to London from Brackhampton and I would come on here as you did. I, of course, would pay the fares," Miss Marple stressed this point firmly.
Mrs. McGillicuddy ignored the financial aspect.
Gustav Klimt Painting
Modern Art Painting
Modern Art Painting
of excellent principles and no imagination.
"One wants to know," said Miss Marple, "what really happened."
"She was killed."
"Yes, but who killed her, and why, and what happened to her body? Where is it now?"
"That's the business of the police to find out."
Modern Art Painting
Exactly - and they haven't found out. That means, doesn't it, that the man was clever - very clever. I can't imagine, you know," said Miss Marple, knitting her brows, "how he disposed of it…. You kill a woman in a fit of passion - it must have been unpremeditated, you'd never choose to kill a woman in such circumstances just a few minutes before running into a big station. No, it must have been a quarrel - jealousy - something of that kind. You strangle her - and there you are, as I say, with a dead body on your hands and on the point of running into a station. What could you do except as I said at first, prop the body up in a corner as though asleep, hiding the face, and then yourself leave the train as quickly as possible. I don't see any other possibility - and yet there must have been one…."
Miss Marple lost herself in thought.
Modern Art Painting
of excellent principles and no imagination.
"One wants to know," said Miss Marple, "what really happened."
"She was killed."
"Yes, but who killed her, and why, and what happened to her body? Where is it now?"
"That's the business of the police to find out."
Modern Art Painting
Exactly - and they haven't found out. That means, doesn't it, that the man was clever - very clever. I can't imagine, you know," said Miss Marple, knitting her brows, "how he disposed of it…. You kill a woman in a fit of passion - it must have been unpremeditated, you'd never choose to kill a woman in such circumstances just a few minutes before running into a big station. No, it must have been a quarrel - jealousy - something of that kind. You strangle her - and there you are, as I say, with a dead body on your hands and on the point of running into a station. What could you do except as I said at first, prop the body up in a corner as though asleep, hiding the face, and then yourself leave the train as quickly as possible. I don't see any other possibility - and yet there must have been one…."
Miss Marple lost herself in thought.
Modern Art Painting
Art Painting
Art Painting
don't think," said Miss Marple thoughtfully, "that there's anything more you can do about it." (If Mrs. McGillicuddy had been alert to the tones of her friend's voice, she might have noticed a very faint stress laid on the you.) “You've reported what you saw – to the railway people and to the police. No, there's nothing more you can do."
"That's a relief, in a way," said Mrs. McGillicuddy, "because as you know, I'm going out to Ceylon immediately after Christmas - to stay with Roderick, and I certainly do not want to put that visit off - I've been looking
Art Painting
forward to it so much. Though of course I would put it off if I thought it was my duty," she added conscientiously.
"I'm sure you would, Elspeth, but as I say, I consider you've done everything you possibly could do."
"It's up to the police," said Mrs. McGillicuddy. "And if the police choose to be stupid –"
Miss Marple shook her head decisively.
"Oh, no," she said, “the police aren't stupid. And that makes it interesting, doesn't it?"
Mrs. McGillicuddy looked at her without comprehension and Miss Marple reaffirmed her judgment of he
Art Painting
don't think," said Miss Marple thoughtfully, "that there's anything more you can do about it." (If Mrs. McGillicuddy had been alert to the tones of her friend's voice, she might have noticed a very faint stress laid on the you.) “You've reported what you saw – to the railway people and to the police. No, there's nothing more you can do."
"That's a relief, in a way," said Mrs. McGillicuddy, "because as you know, I'm going out to Ceylon immediately after Christmas - to stay with Roderick, and I certainly do not want to put that visit off - I've been looking
Art Painting
forward to it so much. Though of course I would put it off if I thought it was my duty," she added conscientiously.
"I'm sure you would, Elspeth, but as I say, I consider you've done everything you possibly could do."
"It's up to the police," said Mrs. McGillicuddy. "And if the police choose to be stupid –"
Miss Marple shook her head decisively.
"Oh, no," she said, “the police aren't stupid. And that makes it interesting, doesn't it?"
Mrs. McGillicuddy looked at her without comprehension and Miss Marple reaffirmed her judgment of he
Art Painting
Famous painting
Famous painting
Less serious? Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. McGillicuddy. "It was murder!"
She looked defiantly at Miss Marple and Miss Marple looked back at her.
"Go on, Jane," said Mrs. McGillicuddy. "Say it was all a mistake! Say I imagined the whole thing! That's what you think now, isn't it?"
Famous painting
Anyone can be mistaken," Miss Marple pointed out gently. "Anybody, Elspeth - even you. I think we must bear that in mind. But I still think, you know, that you were most probably not mistaken…. You use glasses for reading, but you've got very good far sight - and what you saw impressed you very powerfully. You were definitely suffering from shock when you arrived here."
"It's a thing I shall never forget," said Mrs. McGillicuddy with a shudder. "The trouble is, I don't see what I can do about it!"
Famous painting
Less serious? Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. McGillicuddy. "It was murder!"
She looked defiantly at Miss Marple and Miss Marple looked back at her.
"Go on, Jane," said Mrs. McGillicuddy. "Say it was all a mistake! Say I imagined the whole thing! That's what you think now, isn't it?"
Famous painting
Anyone can be mistaken," Miss Marple pointed out gently. "Anybody, Elspeth - even you. I think we must bear that in mind. But I still think, you know, that you were most probably not mistaken…. You use glasses for reading, but you've got very good far sight - and what you saw impressed you very powerfully. You were definitely suffering from shock when you arrived here."
"It's a thing I shall never forget," said Mrs. McGillicuddy with a shudder. "The trouble is, I don't see what I can do about it!"
Famous painting
Famous artist painting
Famous artist painting
"Yes, it will have been noticed," said Cornish. "Or if a woman was found unconscious or ill in a carriage and was removed to hospital, that, too will be on record. I think you may rest assured that you'll hear about it all in a very short time."
But that day passed and the next day. On that evening Miss Marple received a note from Sergeant Cornish.
Famous artist painting
In regard to the matter on which you consulted me, full inquiries have been made, with no result. No woman's body has been found. No hospital has administered treatment to a woman such as you describe, and no case of a woman suffering from shock or taken ill, or leaving a station supported by a man has been observed. I suggest that your friend may have witnessed a scene such as she described but that if was much less serious than she supposed.
Famous artist painting
"Yes, it will have been noticed," said Cornish. "Or if a woman was found unconscious or ill in a carriage and was removed to hospital, that, too will be on record. I think you may rest assured that you'll hear about it all in a very short time."
But that day passed and the next day. On that evening Miss Marple received a note from Sergeant Cornish.
Famous artist painting
In regard to the matter on which you consulted me, full inquiries have been made, with no result. No woman's body has been found. No hospital has administered treatment to a woman such as you describe, and no case of a woman suffering from shock or taken ill, or leaving a station supported by a man has been observed. I suggest that your friend may have witnessed a scene such as she described but that if was much less serious than she supposed.
Famous artist painting
Gustav Klimt lady with fan Painting
Gustav Klimt lady with fan Painting
Frank Cornish nodded.
"The only other course open to the murderer would be to push the body out of the train on to the line. It must, I suppose, be still on the track somewhere as yet undiscovered - though that does seem a little unlikely. But there would be, as far as I can see, no other way of dealing with it."
"You read about bodies being put in trunks," said Mrs. McGillicuddy, "but no one travels with trunks nowadays, only suitcases, and you couldn't get a body into a suitcase."
"Yes," said Cornish. "I agree with you both. The body, if
Gustav Klimt lady with fan Painting
Yes," said Cornish. "I agree with you both. The body, if there is a body, ought to have been discovered by now, or will be very soon. I'll let you know any developments there are - though I dare say you’ll read about them in the papers. There's the possibility, of course, that the woman, though savagely attacked, was not actually dead. She may have been able to leave the train on her own feet."
"Hardly without assistance," said Miss Marple. "And if so, it will have been noticed. A man, supporting a woman whom he says is ill."
Frank Cornish nodded.
"The only other course open to the murderer would be to push the body out of the train on to the line. It must, I suppose, be still on the track somewhere as yet undiscovered - though that does seem a little unlikely. But there would be, as far as I can see, no other way of dealing with it."
"You read about bodies being put in trunks," said Mrs. McGillicuddy, "but no one travels with trunks nowadays, only suitcases, and you couldn't get a body into a suitcase."
"Yes," said Cornish. "I agree with you both. The body, if
Gustav Klimt lady with fan Painting
Yes," said Cornish. "I agree with you both. The body, if there is a body, ought to have been discovered by now, or will be very soon. I'll let you know any developments there are - though I dare say you’ll read about them in the papers. There's the possibility, of course, that the woman, though savagely attacked, was not actually dead. She may have been able to leave the train on her own feet."
"Hardly without assistance," said Miss Marple. "And if so, it will have been noticed. A man, supporting a woman whom he says is ill."
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Rembrandt Painting
Rembrandt Painting
I seehis figure dimly taking shape-a man who prints clearly and well-who buysgood-quality paper-who is at great needs to express his personality.I seehim as a child possibly ignored and passed over-I see him growing up with aninward sense of inferiority-warring with a sense of injustice......I seethat inner urge-to assert himself-to focus attention on himself everbecoming stronger，and events，circumstances-crushing it down-heaping，perhaps，more humiliations on him.And inwardly the match is set to thepowder train......"
Rembrandt Painting
"That's all pure conjucture，"I objected."It doesn't give you anypractical help." "You prefer the match end，the cigarette ash，the nailed boots!Youalways have.But at least we can ask ourselves some practical questions.Whythe A B C?Why Mrs Ascher?Why Andover?" "The woman's past life seems simple enough，"I mused."The interviewswith those two men were disappointing.They couldn't tell us anything morethan we knew already."
Rembrandt Painting
I seehis figure dimly taking shape-a man who prints clearly and well-who buysgood-quality paper-who is at great needs to express his personality.I seehim as a child possibly ignored and passed over-I see him growing up with aninward sense of inferiority-warring with a sense of injustice......I seethat inner urge-to assert himself-to focus attention on himself everbecoming stronger，and events，circumstances-crushing it down-heaping，perhaps，more humiliations on him.And inwardly the match is set to thepowder train......"
Rembrandt Painting
"That's all pure conjucture，"I objected."It doesn't give you anypractical help." "You prefer the match end，the cigarette ash，the nailed boots!Youalways have.But at least we can ask ourselves some practical questions.Whythe A B C?Why Mrs Ascher?Why Andover?" "The woman's past life seems simple enough，"I mused."The interviewswith those two men were disappointing.They couldn't tell us anything morethan we knew already."
Rembrandt Painting
Abstract Painting
Abstract Painting
"To tell the truth，I did not expect much in that line.But we could notneglect two possible candidates for the murder." "Surely you don't think-""There is at least a possibility that themurderer lives in or near Andover.That is a possible answer to ourquestion:"Why Andover?"Well，here were two men known to have been in theshop at the requisite time of day.Either of them might be the murderer.Andthere is nothing as yet to show that one or other of them is not themurderer." "That great hulking brute，Riddell，perhaps，"I admitted. "Oh，I am inclined to acquit Riddell off-hand.He was nervous，blustering，obviously uneasy-""But surely that just shows-""A nature diametricallyopposed to that which penned the A B C letter.
The Three Ages of Woman
Conceit and self-confidence are the characteristics that we must lookfor." "Someove who throws his weight about?" "Possibly.But some people，under a nervous and self-effacing manner，conceal a great deal of vanity and self-satisfaction." "You don't think that little Mr Partridge-""He is more le type.Onecannot say more than that.He acts as the writer of the letter would act-goesat once to the police-pushes himself to the fore-enjoys his position." "Do you really think-?"
Abstract Painting
"To tell the truth，I did not expect much in that line.But we could notneglect two possible candidates for the murder." "Surely you don't think-""There is at least a possibility that themurderer lives in or near Andover.That is a possible answer to ourquestion:"Why Andover?"Well，here were two men known to have been in theshop at the requisite time of day.Either of them might be the murderer.Andthere is nothing as yet to show that one or other of them is not themurderer." "That great hulking brute，Riddell，perhaps，"I admitted. "Oh，I am inclined to acquit Riddell off-hand.He was nervous，blustering，obviously uneasy-""But surely that just shows-""A nature diametricallyopposed to that which penned the A B C letter.
The Three Ages of Woman
Conceit and self-confidence are the characteristics that we must lookfor." "Someove who throws his weight about?" "Possibly.But some people，under a nervous and self-effacing manner，conceal a great deal of vanity and self-satisfaction." "You don't think that little Mr Partridge-""He is more le type.Onecannot say more than that.He acts as the writer of the letter would act-goesat once to the police-pushes himself to the fore-enjoys his position." "Do you really think-?"
Abstract Painting
The Singing Butler
The Singing Butler
"Of course not.He left it on purpose.The fingerprints tell us that." "But there weren't any on it." "That is what I mean.What was yesterday evening?A warm June night.Does aman stroll about on such an evening in gloves?Such a man would certainlyhave attracted attention.Therefore since there are no fingerprints on the AB C，it must have been carefully wiped.An innocent man would have leftprints-a guilty man would not.So our murderer left it there for apurpose-but for all that it is none the less a clue.That A B C was bought bysomeone-it was carried by someone-there is a possibility there."
The Singing Butler
"You think we may learn something that way?" "Frankly，Hastings，I am not particularly hopeful.This man，this unknownX，obviously prides himself on his abilities.He is not likely to blaze atrail that can be followed straight away." "So that really the ABC isn't helpful at all." "Not in the sense you mean." "In any sense?" Poirot did not answer at once.Then he said slowly: "The answer to that is yes.We are confronted here by an unknownpersonage.He is in the dark and seeks to remain in the dark.But in the verynature of things he cannot help throwing light upon himself.In one sense weknow nothing about him-in another sense we know already a good deal.
The Singing Butler
"Of course not.He left it on purpose.The fingerprints tell us that." "But there weren't any on it." "That is what I mean.What was yesterday evening?A warm June night.Does aman stroll about on such an evening in gloves?Such a man would certainlyhave attracted attention.Therefore since there are no fingerprints on the AB C，it must have been carefully wiped.An innocent man would have leftprints-a guilty man would not.So our murderer left it there for apurpose-but for all that it is none the less a clue.That A B C was bought bysomeone-it was carried by someone-there is a possibility there."
The Singing Butler
"You think we may learn something that way?" "Frankly，Hastings，I am not particularly hopeful.This man，this unknownX，obviously prides himself on his abilities.He is not likely to blaze atrail that can be followed straight away." "So that really the ABC isn't helpful at all." "Not in the sense you mean." "In any sense?" Poirot did not answer at once.Then he said slowly: "The answer to that is yes.We are confronted here by an unknownpersonage.He is in the dark and seeks to remain in the dark.But in the verynature of things he cannot help throwing light upon himself.In one sense weknow nothing about him-in another sense we know already a good deal.
The Singing Butler
Jack Vettriano Painting
Jack Vettriano Painting
Well?"I demanded eagerly. We were seated in a first-class carriage which we had to ourselves.Thetrain，an express，had just drawn out of Andover. "The crime，"said Poirot，"was committed by a man of medium height withred hair and a cast in the left eye.He limps slightly on the right foot andhas a mole just below the shoulder-blade." "Poirot?"I cried. For the moment I was completely taken in.Then the twinkle in my friend'seye undeceived me.
Jack Vettriano Painting
"Poirot?"I said again，this time in reproach. "Mon ami，what will you?You fix upon me a look of doglike devotion anddemand of me a pronouncement a la Sherlock Holmes!Now for the truth-I do notknow what the murderer looks like，nor where he lives，nor how to set handsupon him." "If only he had left some clue，"I murmured. "Yes，the clue-it is always the clue that attracts you.Alas that he didnot smoke the cigarette and leave the ash，and then step in it with a showthat has nails of a curious pattern.No-he is not so obliging.But at least，my friend，you have the railway guide.The A B C，that is a clue for you!" "Do you think he left it by mistake then?
Jack Vettriano Painting
Well?"I demanded eagerly. We were seated in a first-class carriage which we had to ourselves.Thetrain，an express，had just drawn out of Andover. "The crime，"said Poirot，"was committed by a man of medium height withred hair and a cast in the left eye.He limps slightly on the right foot andhas a mole just below the shoulder-blade." "Poirot?"I cried. For the moment I was completely taken in.Then the twinkle in my friend'seye undeceived me.
Jack Vettriano Painting
"Poirot?"I said again，this time in reproach. "Mon ami，what will you?You fix upon me a look of doglike devotion anddemand of me a pronouncement a la Sherlock Holmes!Now for the truth-I do notknow what the murderer looks like，nor where he lives，nor how to set handsupon him." "If only he had left some clue，"I murmured. "Yes，the clue-it is always the clue that attracts you.Alas that he didnot smoke the cigarette and leave the ash，and then step in it with a showthat has nails of a curious pattern.No-he is not so obliging.But at least，my friend，you have the railway guide.The A B C，that is a clue for you!" "Do you think he left it by mistake then?
Jack Vettriano Painting
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