By Carter Dickson
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Additional resources for And So to Murder
What's the matter with you? ") "Eh? " ("There. ") There was a terrible silence. For a second Mr. Cartwright did not turn round. Monica had a back view of an ancient sports coat, and gray flannels which looked as though they had not been pressed since Christmas. The shoulders of the sports coat slowly hunched up until they were almost on a level with his ears. " he whispered in an awed voice. Then he risked one eye, and finally turned round and faced it. " "Sorry? Oh, no," said Monica, pale with fury but carefully keeping her voice light, airy, and la-di-da.
People don't lock themselves away into secret shrines behind a battery of secretaries. And everybody knows everybody else. From producer to director to star and all the way down, they're all over the place. They drop in on each other, and hang about, and get in your way. They are mostly a very decent crowd. Some of them, even, are quite intelligent. " "You’ll see," answered Cartwright, with gloomy relish. It is doubtful whether she heard him. They had emerged into hot sunlight beside the manor house, and were walking up a broad, smooth slope of greensward at the curve of the lake.
Eleanor did so.. Monica was placed in such a position that Miss Fleur could see her in a good light. For Miss Fleur was genuinely curious. She had not actually read Desire, but she had got her husband to read all the best bits aloud to her; and she was interested. Her appraising glance ran and rang like a cash-register. What she thought was not apparent. " she asked. "I hope you like it. " Here she looked at Monica even more curiously. " "Not at all," laughed the other. "My husband - Baron von Gagern—loved it too.