Chapter 6 Chapter Six

Winston took the guest book from the hotel. He read aloud: "Major and Mrs Curwin Miss Pamela Curwin Red Hill, Leatherhead Master Rob Curwen Master Evan Curwen Mr. and Mrs. Masterman Edward Masterman 5 Marlborough Drive Jennifer Masterman London, North West Roy Masterman Frederick Masterman Mr & Mrs Gardner New York Mr. and Mrs. Redfang Village, Shuangmen Street Prince Raxburg 18 Cotton Street, Major Barry St James's Borough of London Mr Horace Platt 5 Pixie Street London Mr Hercule Poirot Whitehall House, London Miss Rosamund Daly, 8 Kadingham House Emily Brest Southgate Street London

Reverend Steven Lane London Mr. and Mrs. Marshall, No. 73, Ample Cottage Miss Linda Marshall London" He stopped, and Inspector Cogender said, "Sir, I think we can eliminate the first two. Mrs. Consol told me that these two families take their children here for vacation every year. This morning They went out together, sailed the sea, played all day, took lunch, and started at a little after nine. The man who took them out in the boat was Andrew Baston, we can find him That's right, but I think we can remove them from the list now." Winston nodded, "I agree, we will try to remove those who can be eliminated first. Poirot, can you please remove the others? Can you briefly explain it to us?"

Poirot said: "It's just a superficial description, that's easy. The Gardners are a middle-aged couple, very nice people, have traveled a lot, and the lady does all the talking. On the sidelines, he plays tennis and golf, and he actually has a sense of humor, but that only comes out when he's alone." "Sounds okay." "The next couple, Mr. and Mrs. Redfon. Redfon is very young, very attractive to ladies, very good swimmer, good tennis player, and good dancer. His wife I have just told you about." , she is quiet, a little haggardly beautiful, I think she loves her husband with all her heart, and she has something Eleanor Marshall doesn't have."

"what is it then?" "mind." Inspector Cogender sighed and said, "When it comes to love, brains don't count." "Perhaps, but I still think Patrick Redfond, in spite of Mrs. Marshall's bewilderment, really cares about his wife." "It's also possible that this kind of thing has happened before." Poirot murmured, "It's this kind of place that's pitiful, and it's hardest for women to believe it." He continued, "Major Barry, who used to serve in India but is now retired, admires women very much and likes to say Long, boring story."

Inspector Kogende sighed, "You don't need to go on, I've seen a few people like this." "Mr. Horace Platt, obviously a rich man, talks a lot--about himself, and he wants to be friends with everybody, which is a pity because no one likes him very much. ...And one more thing, Mr. Blatt asked me a lot of questions last night, and Mr. Blatt looked very disturbed, yes, there is something wrong with Mr. Blatt." He paused, then changed to He continued in a low tone: "The next one is Miss Rosamund Daly, she opened a rose house clothing company. She is a famous fashion designer, what should I say about her? She has a lot of brains She's very personable and very fashionable, and it's very pleasant to see." He paused, and then said, "She's an old friend of Mr. Marshall's."

Winston sat up straight in his chair. "Oh, really?" "Yes, but they haven't seen each other for many years." Winston asked: "Did she know he was coming here?" "She said she didn't know." Poirot paused, and continued: "Who's next? Miss Brest, she makes me feel a little worried." He shook his head, "Her voice sounded like a man's, very personable." Straightforward and crude, she can row and play golf well." He paused. "But I think she has a good heart." Winston said, "The Reverend Steven Lane is all that's left. Who is he?"

"I can only tell you one thing, he is a man in a state of extreme mental tension, and I think he is also a fanatic." Inspector Cogender said, "Oh, that kind of guy." "That's it," said Winston. He looked at Poirot. "You seem to be thinking of something, my friend." Poirot said: "Well, because, when Mrs. Marshall left the beach this morning, she asked me not to tell anyone that I had seen her, and I immediately thought of what was going on, and I thought of her and Patrick Read. Fong's friendship caused trouble between her and her husband, and I thought she was planning to meet Patrick Redfon somewhere, and didn't want her husband to know she was there."

He paused. "But, you know, I was wrong about that, because, although her husband was almost at once on the beach and asked me if he had seen her, Patrick Redfern came too. —and apparently looking for her everywhere! So, my friends, I ask myself now, who exactly is Arlena Marshall going to meet?" Inspector Cogender said: "That fits with my opinion. A man from London or something." Hercule Poirot shook his head, and said, "But, according to your theory, Eleanor Marshall has cut off contact with this mysterious figure. Why, then, did she bother to meet him?" ?” Inspector Cogender also shook his head. He said, "Who do you think it is?"

"That's where I can't figure it out. We've just read the guest list at the hotel, and they're all middle-aged people - there's no reason why one of them would make Eleanor Marshall the opposite party." Would Chuck Redfond prefer? That's impossible. But, all the same, she's gone to see someone—and it's not Patrick Redfonne." Winston murmured: "You don't think she's just going out by herself?" Poirot shook his head, and said: "You say this because you have not met the deceased woman. Someone once wrote a paper on the different effects of being alone on different people. My dear friend, Ellen Elena Marshall is never alone at all, she only lives in the admiration of men, who did Elena Marshall go to see this morning, and who is that person?"

Colonel Winston sighed, shook his head, and said: "Well, we'll talk about the theory later, and we'll finish the investigation now. Be sure to write down where everyone is. I think we'd better see now." See Marshall's daughter. She might be able to tell us something useful." Colonel Winston could not help feeling a pang of affection for Linda Marshall, who came into the room bewildered, slamming against the doorframe, her breathing coming so fast, her pupils dilated, that she looked like a frightened pony.He thought: "Poor child—she's only a child after all. This must have come as a great shock to her."

He pulled up a chair and said in a very reassuring tone, "I'm sorry to put you through these things. Your name is Linda, isn't it?" "Yes, my name is Linda." There was a muffled pant in her voice, the voice typical of schoolgirls, and her hands were resting helplessly on the table in front of him—poor hands, big and red, with big bones and very tight wrists. long."Children shouldn't be involved in such things," thought Winston, and he said soothingly, "these things are nothing to be nervous about, we just want you to tell us what you know and what we might be able to use." ,that is it." Linda said, "You mean—about Elena?" "Yes, did you see her this morning?" The little girl shook her head, "No, Elena always comes downstairs very late, she usually eats breakfast in bed." Hercule Poirot said: "And you, Miss." "Oh, I wake up early and it's boring to have breakfast in bed." Winston said: "Can you tell me what you did this morning?" "Well, I'll go for a swim first, then I'll have breakfast, and then I'll go to Gull Bay with Mrs Redfern." Winston said: "When did you and Mrs. Redfern set off?" "She said she was waiting for me in the lobby at ten thirty. I was afraid I would be late, but it didn't work out. We left around twenty-seven." Poirot said, "What are you doing in Gull Bay?" "Oh, I oiled myself up and sunbathed. Mrs. Redfern painted. Then I went swimming in the sea and Christine went back to the hotel to change for tennis." Winston asked in as casual a tone as possible: "Do you remember what time it was?" "When Mrs. Redfern returns to the hotel? A quarter to twelve." "Are you sure it's this time—a quarter to twelve?" Linda widened her eyes and said, "Oh, sure, I checked my watch." "Is this the watch you're wearing now?" Linda looked down at her wrist, "Yes." Winston said: "Lend it to me, will you?" She stretched out her hand, and he stretched out his watch for comparison, and then looked at the clock on the wall of the hotel, he smiled and said, "It's accurate to one second. Then you went swimming?" "yes." "When are you going back to the hotel again?" "Around one o'clock, I—later—I heard—Elena..." Her voice cracked. Colonel Winston said: "How are you—er—and your stepmother getting on?" She looked at him without saying a word for a minute, then said, "Oh, it's all right." "Do you like her, Miss?" asked Poirot. Linda said, "Oh, yes." She added, "Elena is very kind to me." Winston said, somewhat uneasy: "Not a very cruel stepmother, eh?" Linda shook her head without a smile on her face. Winston said: "That's good, that's good. You know, sometimes there are problems in a family—jealousy, or something, and the daughter and the father used to be like good friends, and then he was all about seeing the new wife, doing things." My daughter's heart is not very comfortable. You don't feel this way, do you? Eh?" Linda stared at him and said sincerely, "Oh, no." Winston said: "I suppose your father - er - has his heart set on her?" Linda said simply, "I don't know." Winston continued: "As I said just now, there will be all kinds of problems in the family, quarrels - quarrels - things like that, if there is any dispute between husband and wife, it is very difficult for a daughter , always embarrassing. Has anything like this happened?" Linda asked clearly: "Are you saying, have my father and Elena ever quarreled?" "Er—yes," thought Winston to himself, "such a bloody job—to question a child about her father, why should I be a policeman? Damn it, but what has to be done has to be done. " Linda said with certainty, "Oh, no." She added, "Papa doesn't fight with people. He's not that kind of person." Winston said: "Well, Miss Linda, I want you to think about it carefully. Do you know who might have killed your stepmother? Have you heard anything at this point, or Do you know something that can help us?" Linda was silent for a minute!She seemed to be deliberating over this question calmly, and finally she said, "No, I don't know who would want to kill Elena." She went on: "Unless, of course, it's Mrs. Redfern." Winston said: "You think Mrs. Redfern wants to kill her? Why?" Linda said: "Because her husband is in love with Elena, but I don't mean she really wants to kill her, I mean she thinks she wants Elena to die - it's not a It's going on, isn't it?" Poirot said very gently: "Yes, it's not the same thing at all." Linda nodded, a strange spasm in her face.She said: "Besides, Mrs. Redfern couldn't have done that sort of thing anyway--killed, she wasn't--she wasn't very violent, I think you know what I mean." Both Winston and Poirot nodded.Poirot said: "I know exactly what you mean, my boy, and I agree with you. Mrs. Redfern is not, as you say, the kind of person who 'sees red', she doesn't—" He Leaning back, eyes half-closed, choosing his words carefully—“Had a sudden violent emotion—seeing her life narrow before her eyes—seeing a face she hated— —a white neck she hated—felt her ten fingers curled—wanted to strangle—” He stopped and Linda backed away from the table convulsively.She asked in a trembling voice, "Can I go? Is there anything else?" Colonel Winston said: "Well, well, it's all right. Thank you, Miss Linda." He got up, opened the door for her, then went back to the table, sat down, and lit a cigarette. . "Bah," he said, "we're not doing very well, and I can tell you, I don't think it's right to ask a child about the relationship between her father and her stepmother. A snare around her old man's neck. Still, it's gotta be done. A murder is a murder, and she's the one most likely to know, but she has nothing to tell me about it. It makes me feel like it’s something I can’t be more grateful for.” "Yes," said Poirot, "I suppose you think so too." Winston coughed in embarrassment and said, "By the way, Poirot, I think you went too far in the end and said something like stretching your hand into your flesh! This kind of thinking really shouldn't be said to children .” Hercule Poirot looked at him thoughtfully and said: "Do you think I'm putting these ideas into her head?" "Well, isn't it? Admit it." Poirot shook his head, and Winston changed the subject.He said: "We got nothing useful from her, by the way, except indirectly to provide Mrs. Redfern with an alibi, and if they were between half-past ten and a quarter to twelve, If they are all together, then Christine Redfern will not be suspected, and the suspect who is jealous of his wife's identity will exit." Poirot said: "There is a better reason for her to get rid of suspicion than this. I am convinced that she can't kill anyone, both physically and mentally. She is of the calm type, and she will only love someone deeply." A person, no matter what the other person is, is consistent. There is no such impulsive enthusiasm or anger, and besides, her hands are too small and slender." Cogender said: "I agree with Mr. Poirot that her name can be struck out. Dr. Neston said that the man who strangled that lady had a pair of strong hands." Winston said: "Well, I think I'll ask the Redfones first. I think he's recovered a bit from the shock he's had by now." Patrick Redfonne had fully recovered.He looked pale and haggard, and suddenly young, but his manner was quite composed. "Are you Mr. Patrick Redfonne of Double Gate Street, Mountain Village, Prince Lesburg?" "yes." "How long have you known Mrs. Marshall?" Patrick Redfern hesitated, then said, "Three months." Winston continued: "Mr. Marshall told us that you and her met by chance at a cocktail party, did you not?" "Yes, that's it." Winston said: "Is it true that Mr. Marshall said that you did not know each other very well before the two of you came here and met again, Mr. Redfern?" Patrick Redfern hesitated for another minute, then said, "Well—not quite. In fact, I've met her several times." "Mr. Marshall doesn't know?" Redfang's face flushed slightly."I don't know if he knew," he said. Hercule Poirot spoke, and he murmured: "Your wife doesn't know the same, Mr. Redfern?" "I believe I mentioned it to my wife that I knew the famous Arlena Starter." Poirot asked, "But she doesn't know that you and her often meet?" "Well, maybe not." Winston said: "Have you made an appointment with Mrs. Marshall to meet here?" Redfang was silent for a minute or two, then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, well," he said, "I reckon it'll come out anyway, and it won't do me any good to keep it from you. I'm madly in love with that woman—crazy in love—whatever you want, she I hesitated to come here, and then I agreed. I—I—well, I'll do whatever she asks me to do, and she's got that power over people." Hercule Poirot murmured: "You describe her very clearly. She is a charming banshee, and she is quite right!" Patrick Redfonne said grimly, "She does turn men into pigs!" He continued: "I'm very frank with everyone. I won't hide anything. What's the use of hiding it? As I said just now, I love her to the core. As for whether she loves me or not, I don't know at all." Yes, she pretends to care about me, but I think she's one of those women who throws a guy away once he gets her, and she knows she's got me, and this morning when I found her dead on the beach At times, it was like—” He paused— “I was like a slap in the face, and I felt dizzy—like a blackout.” Poirot leaned forward, "What now?" Patrick Redfang met his eyes.He said: "I told you all the truth, and what I want to ask is - how much of this matter will be made public? Because this matter has nothing to do with her death, and if it is made public, it will have no effect on my internal affairs. It would be quite a shock to a human being. Oh, I know," he went on quickly, "you're probably thinking, why didn't I think about her more? Maybe it did. But, this I'm afraid it sounds hypocritical, but actually, I really do love my wife—caring deeply for her. The other"—he shrugged his shoulders—"that's kind of crazy—a man can Stupid thing to do - but Christine is different, she's the real one, and as much as I treat her badly, I always know in my heart that she's the one who really matters." He pauses - sighs Tone——said a little pitifully: "I hope I can convince you of what I'm saying." Hercule Poirot, leaning forward, said: "I believe, really, really, I believe what you say." Patrick Redfonne looked at him gratefully and said, "Thank you." Colonel Winston cleared his throat, and he said: "You are probably thinking that we probably won't announce this matter to the public. If the affair between you and Mrs. Marshall has nothing to do with the murder itself, then that's fine." No need to dig into the case, but you don't seem to understand that - er - your intimacy may have been directly implicated in the murder, which, you know, may have created a motive for the crime." Patrick Redfonne said, "Motive?" Winston said: "Yes, Mr. Redfonne, motive! Perhaps Mr. Marshall does not know about your relationship. Suppose he suddenly finds out?" Redfonne said: "Oh dear! You mean he found out and—killed her?" The Chief Constable said dryly: "Have you never thought of such a possibility?" Redfon shook his head. He said: "No—strange, I never thought of such a thing, you know, Marshall is a very quiet man, and I—ah, it doesn't look like there is such a thing. thing." Winston asked: "What was Mrs. Marshall's attitude towards her husband during your association? Did she feel—er, disturbed—that it might get to his ears? Or did she not care at all?" Redfon said slowly, "She's—a little nervous. She doesn't want him to suspect anything." "Is she a little afraid of him?" "Afraid? No, I don't think so." Poirot murmured, "I'm sorry, Mr. Redfang, have you ever raised the issue of divorce during this period of time?" Patrick Redfern shook his head affirmatively, "Ah, no, never talked about such matters. You know, I have Christine, and Elena, I bet she never thought Had that. She was very content married to Marshall, who was—well, kind of a respectable person—” He smiled suddenly, “a country gentleman—something of the sort, and quite Rich. It never occurred to her that she might choose me as her husband. I was just one of her many poor faces—just to pass her spare time, and I always knew that, but strange Well, it didn't affect my feelings for her at all..." He lowered his voice and sat there thinking.Winston called him back from his contemplation. "Well, Mr. Redfern, did you make a special appointment with Mrs. Marshall this morning?" Patrick Redfern said a little puzzled: "There is no special agreement. We usually meet every morning on the beach and often go out on a small raft." "Aren't you surprised you didn't see Mrs. Marshall this morning?" "Well, yes. I was very surprised and had no idea what was going on." "What did you think?" "Well, I don't know what to think, I mean, I keep thinking she's coming." "If she's dating someone else elsewhere, who do you think it might be?" Patrick Redfern only widened his eyes and shook his head. "If you usually date Mrs. Marshall, where do you meet?" "Well, sometimes I meet her in Gull Bay in the afternoon, because there's no sun in the afternoon around Gull Bay, so there's usually no one there. We've had a date or two there." "Never been to any other bay? What about Little Demon Bay?" "No, Little Demon Bay faces west. Many people go there by boat and small raft in the afternoon. We never date in the morning. It's too noticeable. In the afternoon, everyone will go to take a nap or wander around. , no one knows where the others are." Winston nodded."Of course," continued Patrick Redfonne, "after supper, when the weather is nice, we'll go for a walk around the island." "Well, yes," murmured Hercule Poirot, and Patrick Redfon gave him a puzzled look. Winston said: "Then you can't help us find out why Mrs. Marshall went to Leprechaun Bay this morning?" Redfang shook his head, and he said in a very puzzled tone: "I really don't understand at all! This is simply not like Elena's usual behavior." Winston said: "Has she any friends living around here?" "I don't know, oh, I'm sure not." "Well, Mr. Redfern, I want you to think carefully. If you knew Mrs. Marshall in London, and you must have known her circle of friends, do you have any impression of someone who harbored a deep hatred for her? For example, is there any one she abandoned because of you?" Patrick Redfern thought for a few minutes, then shook his head. "Honestly," he said, "I can't think of anyone." Colonel Winston tapped his knuckles on the table.Finally he said, "Okay, nothing else, we seem to have only three possibilities left. Maybe an unknown murderer - a madman - just happened to be around here - this is a bit too mysterious -" Redfarn put in: "But, to tell you the truth, that might be the case." Winston shook his head. He said: "This case will not be like this. The bay is quite difficult to get to. If the man hadn't come up by the causeway, passed the hotel, turned over the other side of the island and went down by the ladder. Otherwise, the only option is to go there by boat, neither of the two routes seems like the murderer would go on a whim." Patrick Redfonne said, "You said there were three possibilities." "Er—yes," said the Constable, "that means there are two men on this island who have a motive for her murder. One is her husband, and the other is your wife." Redfang stared at him blankly.He said, "My wife? Christine? You mean Christine had something to do with it?" He stood up and said in a rage, "You're crazy--just crazy--K Christine? Oh, it's impossible, it's ridiculous!" Winston said: "At any rate, Mr. Redfonne, envy is a very strong motive, and a jealous woman can lose control of herself entirely." Redfarn said eagerly: "Christine won't--she, oh, she's not like that, she's unhappy, yes, but she's not of the kind--well, there's nothing in her nature Not violent." Hercule Poirot nodded thoughtfully.Violent, Linda Marshall also used these two words, he agreed with this view just like before, "Besides," Redfang said confidently: "This idea is too absurd, Elena Physically at least twice as strong as Christine, I doubt that Christine could strangle a cat—let alone someone as strong as Elena. And Christine Impossible to climb that straight ladder down to the beach from the top of the cliff, she wouldn't dare to do it, and, ah—that's ridiculous!" Colonel Winston scratched his ears: "Well," he said, "it's really impossible to say that, and I agree with that, but the motive is the first thing we want from me." He added: "Motivation and opportunity." After Redfon left the room, the Chief Constable said with a smile: "I don't think it's necessary to tell this guy that his wife has an alibi, and I want to hear his opinion on our statement, so that he can eat it." Surprised, aren't you?" Hercule Poirot murmured: "That whole thing he says is as strong as an alibi." "Yes! Oh, she didn't do it! It couldn't have been her—as you say, she doesn't have that much strength, and Marshall might have done it—but obviously it wasn't him either." Inspector Cogender coughed and said, "I'm sorry, Chief, I was thinking about the alibi. You know, if he had planned, he could have typed those three letters first, which is also possible." .” Winston said: "That's a good idea, we must investigate—" He stopped talking because Christine Redfern entered the room.She was, as usual, quite calm and well behaved.She was wearing a white tennis outfit over a light blue sweater.It brought out the color of her hair and made her look a lot prettier.But, thought Hercule Poirot, her face was neither stupid nor weak, but quite determined, courageous, and reasonable.He nodded appreciatively.Colonel Winston thought: "A very good little woman, maybe a little too light, such a person, her stupid ass husband who is a womanizer is really not good enough. Ah, well, the child is still young, and the woman Often confuses men." He said, "Sit down, Mrs. Redfern, you know there are some routines that have to go through. We're going to ask everyone what they did this morning, just for the record." Christine nodded and said in her calm, clear voice, "Oh, I get it, where do you want me to start?" Hercule Poirot said: "The sooner the better, madame, what have you been doing since you got up this morning?" Christine said: "I think about it. As I was going down to breakfast, I was in Linda Marshall's room and asked her to come with me to Gull Bay this morning. We agreed ten o'clock." Half meet in the hall." Poirot asked: "Didn't you go swimming before breakfast, Madame?" "No, I seldom go swimming so early," she said with a smile, "I like to wait until the water is warmer before going into the water. I'm quite afraid of the cold." "But your husband will go to the morning swimming?" "Yes, almost every day." "Where's Mrs. Marshall? Is she the same?" Christine's voice changed, becoming cold.And some hate. "Oh, no, Mrs. Marshall won't show up until after ten o'clock." Hercule Poirot said with a puzzled expression: "Excuse me, ma'am, let me interrupt first. You just said that you went to Miss Linda Marshall's room. What time was that?" "Let's see--eight-thirty--no, it will be later." "Has Miss Marshall been up by then?" "Ah, wake up, she has been out for a while." "Go out?" "Yes, she said she went swimming." There was something—very little embarrassment in Christine's tone, which puzzled Hercule Poirot. Winston said: "And then?" "Then I went downstairs to have breakfast." "After breakfast?" "I went back upstairs, packed my pencil case and sketchbook, and off we went." "You and Miss Linda Marshall?" "yes." "What time was it then?" "It was exactly ten-thirty, I think." "What did you do?" "We went to Gull Bay. You know, that little bay on the east side of the island. We were there and I painted and Linda sunbathed." "When did you leave the bay?" "A quarter to twelve, I have to come back and change because I have to play tennis at twelve o'clock." "Do you wear a watch yourself?" "No, I don't wear a watch. I only know the time by asking Linda." "Ah, then what?" "I'll pack my painting supplies and go back to the hotel." "Where is Miss Linda?" said Poirot. "Linda? Oh, Linda went swimming." Poirot said: "Are you sitting far from the sea?" "Well, we're a little above high water mark, right under the cliff—so I can sit in the shade while Linda gets some sun." Poirot said: "Did Miss Linda really go swimming in the sea when you left the beach?" Christine frowned, trying to remember for a while.She said: "I'll think about it. She ran down the beach--I closed my pen-case--yes, I heard her jumping into the water on the way up the cliff." "Are you sure of that, ma'am! She's really in the sea?" "Yes!" She stared at him a little surprised. Colonel Winston stared at him also, and then said: "Go on, Mrs. Redfern." "I went back to the hotel, got dressed and went to the tennis court to meet other people." "Where are all those people?" "Mr. Marshall, Mr. Gardner, and Miss Daley. We played two innings, and we were about to start again when we heard the news—about Mrs. Marshall." Hercule Poirot leaned forward.He said, "What did you think when you heard the news? Madame!" "What do I think?" She had a look of dislike for the question. "good." Christine Redfern said slowly, "That's really—a dreadful thing." "Oh, yes, you are very unhappy, and I understand that very well. But does it mean anything to you personally?" She gave him a quick look--a little pleading look.He reacted immediately, and said in a serious tone: "I beg you, madam, you are a very smart, rational and judgmental woman, during the period after you have stayed in the hotel, you must Have your idea of ​​what kind of a woman Mrs. Marshall is?" Christine said very carefully: "I think when a person lives in a hotel by himself, he will somehow have certain opinions about people." "Of course, it is quite natural. So I ask you, madam, were you really surprised to hear of her death?" Christine said slowly, "I think I see what you mean, no, I'm not surprised, I'm really shocked, but a woman like her—" Poirot finished the second half of the sentence for her, "This is what happens to a woman like her... Yes, madam, this is the most truthful and important thing that has been said in this room since this morning. Putting—er—(he chose the word carefully) personal feelings aside, what do you really think of the late Mrs. Marshall?" Christine Redfern said calmly, "Is it worth talking about now?" "I think it's worth talking about." "Uh, what can I say?" Her smooth skin suddenly turned red.她原本矜持的态度也放松了，在这一刻间，她的本性似乎显露了出来。 “她是那种在我看来一文不值的女人！她没有脑筋——没有思想，除了男人、衣服和别人对她的奉承之外，什么也不想，她一无用处，是个寄生虫！我想，她对男人很有吸引力——哦，她当然是这样的，她过的也就是这种生活。所以，我想，我对她会有这样的结局一点也不觉得意外。她是那种专和一些乱七八糟的事搞在一起的女人——勒索、嫉妒，所以这类浅薄低下的感情，她——她是最下贱的人。” 她停了下来，有点喘息，略为显短的上唇翘起来，一副不屑的样子。温斯顿上校突然想到再也找不到一个比克莉丝汀·雷德方更和艾莲娜·史达特正好相反的女人了。他同时也想到，一个人如果娶了克莉丝汀·雷德方，整个气氛会纯净得让你觉得世界上像艾莲娜·史达特那样的女人特别具有吸引力。然后，就紧跟在这些念头后面，一个单一的名词在她所说的众多字句中突现出来，非常特别地引起了他的注意。他将身体朝前面俯了过来。说道：“雷德方太太，你在说到她的时候，为什么会提起'勒索'这两个字呢？”