Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven Tea Tasting as a Guest

Mrs. Harmon came to tea and brought a guest who lived in her house, Miss Marple.If Letitia Blacklock seemed absent-minded at the time, it was almost impossible for the guest to notice it, for this was the first time they had met. There was something charming about the old lady's suave way of making small talk.Almost immediately she comes across as the kind of dowager who is constantly on the lookout for thieves. "They can get in anywhere, my dear," she assured her hostess, "and they're pretty pervasive these days. For all the new American ways, I myself believe in old-fashioned contraptions. A cabin hook and a pair of eyes .They can pick a lock and turn a bar, but a hook and a pair of eyes can thwart them. Have you tried?"

"We're not very good with latches and hooks, I'm afraid," said Miss Blacklock briskly, "and there really isn't much to steal." "The front door should be chained," Miss Marple suggested, "and then the maids can only open the door slightly to see who is outside first, so that they can't force their way in." "I reckon our Central European, Midge, would like this." "The robbery you've been through must have been very, very terrible," said Miss Marple. "Bunche's been telling me about it." "I was too scared to move," Bunche said.

"It was a horrible experience," admitted Miss Blacklock. "The man tripped and shot himself, as if it was God's will. Thieves are so brutal these days. How did he get in?" "Well, I'm afraid we don't lock the door very often." "Come on, Litty," cried Miss Bonner, "I forgot to tell you, the Inspector was acting strange this morning. He insisted on opening the second door—you know—the one that won't— That one over there. He looked for the key to the lock, and said the door was oiled, but I don't know why, because—" By the time she saw Miss Blacklock's motion to silence her, it was too late, so she stopped talking, but kept her mouth open.

"Oh, Lottie, I'm--sorry--I mean, oh, please forgive me, Litty--oh, my God, I'm so stupid." "It's all right," said Miss Blacklock, but she was annoyed, "only I thought Inspector Craddock didn't want it to be talked about. I didn't know you were there when he was doing the experiments, Dora. You understand, yes. Right, Mrs. Harmon?" "Oh, yes," said Bunche, "we won't miss a word, won't we, Jane ① referring to the Germans here."—Annotation. Aunt.But I wonder why he—” She was lost in thought.Miss Bonner fidgeted and looked pitiful, and at last, unable to restrain herself, blurted out: "I always say the wrong thing, and oh my God, Litty, I only add to your pain."

Miss Blacklock said hastily: "You are my greatest comfort, Dora. Fortunately, a place as small as Chipping Cleghorn doesn't really have many secrets. " "That's true," said Miss Marple. "You know, the way the news spreads is probably the most bizarre. Of course servants are one aspect, but it's not only that, because there are not many servants nowadays. There are also door-to-door visits every day." The working women, probably they are worse, because they go around and pass the news back and forth." "Ah!" said Bunche Harmon suddenly, "I see; of course, if that door could be opened, someone could sneak out here and steal—only they couldn't—because the It's the guy from the Royal Pleasure Hotel. Or is that not the case? . . . No, I really don't understand . . . " She frowned.

"So it happened in this room?" asked Miss Marple, and then added, apologetically, "I'm afraid you'd think I'm hopelessly curious, Miss Blacklock—but it's so embarrassing." Thrilling—like a story in a newspaper—I just longed to hear it from cover to cover, to have the whole picture, if you know what I mean—” At once Miss Marple heard Bunch's and Miss Bonner's eloquent but bewildering narration - occasionally corrected by Miss Blacklock. In the meantime, Patrick steps in and benignly joins the retelling—even going so far as to play Rudy Shields. "Aunt Letty's over there--in the corner of the arch. . . . Stand there, Aunt Letty."

Miss Blacklock complied, and they showed Miss Marple the bullet holes. "What a marvel—a lucky escape," she gasped. "I was going to pass cigarettes to a customer," said Miss Blacklock, pointing to the large silver cigarette case on the table. "People are so careless when they smoke," objected Miss Bonner. "No one really cares about good furniture these days. Someone put a cigarette on this pretty table, and look here, it burns really well." Terrible, shameless." Miss Blacklock sighed. Miss Bonner cherished what belonged to her friend as if it were her own.Bunche Harmon had always thought it a very lovable quality in her, and she showed no sign of jealousy.

"It's a lovely table," said Miss Marple politely, "and what a pretty china lamp on it." It was Miss Bonner again who received the compliment, as if it were she and not Miss Blacklock who owned the lamp. "Pretty, isn't it? From Dresden. It's a pair. The other one is in the spare room, I think." "You know where your things are in the house, Dora—or you think you do," said Miss Blacklock pleasantly. "You love mine more than I do." Miss Bonner blushed. "I do like good things," she said.There was both resistance and longing in the voice.

"I must admit," said Miss Marple, "that I have a few very precious things too—brings back so many memories, you know. It's the same thing with photographs. People don't take them much these days. I like to keep my Baby pictures of nephews and nieces—and childhood—and so on.” "You have a horrible picture of me at three years old," Bunch said, "holding a Spitz and squinting." "I think your aunt has quite a few pictures of you," Miss Marple turned to Patrick. "Oh, we're only distant relatives," Patrick said. "I believe Eleanor sent me a picture of you as a baby, Pat," said Miss Blacklock, "but I'm afraid I haven't kept it. I don't know how many children she had in the past, and what their names were." Forget it, I didn't know until she wrote and told me you were coming here."

"Another sign of the times," said Miss Marple, "today people often don't know younger relatives. In the past, when extended families were reunited, this was not possible." "I met Pat and Julie Kie's mother at a wedding thirty years ago," said Miss Blacklock, "and she was a very pretty girl." "That's why she has such a handsome and beautiful child." Patrick grinned. "You have a fine album," said Juliet, "do you remember the nickname of Litty Patrick.—Annotation. Auntie, we watched it that day.those hats! "

"How shrewd we all thought we were," sighed Miss Blacklock. "Never mind, Aunt Letty," Patrick said, "Thirty years later Julia will stumble across a snapshot of herself - and think it's not her!" "What are you intending to do?" asked Bunche, walking home with Miss Marple. "I mean talking about photographs." "Oh, my dear, it's interesting to learn that Miss Blacklock has not seen her two young relatives in person. . . . Well, I think Inspector Craddock will be interested to hear that."